What Price Fury
by Rothalion
Summary: Hephaistion and Alex ander both over react and a tragic scene plays out in front of the council.
1. Default Chapter

Author: Rothalion

Title: What Price Fury

Rating: PG for now.

Fandom: Stone's movie

Summery: Not For the first time in their relationship Hephaistion is a victim of Alexander's wrathful temper. Mitigating issues play a part weakening the faithful Generals defenses causing him to retaliate and havoc ensues before the two can reunite. I can't help but feel as though these two had there fair share of brawls. Egos aside…besides Hephaistion's got other things on his mind.

Genre: Anger and angst and reconciliation

Disclaimers:Mr. Stone for this one, he brought them to life so we can torment them! Not purely movie driven I tweaked it a bit. Maybe too much.

I

A Latent Fury Exposed

Alexander had heard enough. He was strung as tight a bow string after listening to his generals berate and bully him for half the morning about his decision to marry the dancing Princess Roxane. Only Hephaistion had remained silent. Too silent and too distant even for him. Alexander recalled the incredulous looks the group had given him when he told them his plans. He had know idea how Hephaistion had responded, king or not he did not have the courage to look into his life long companions face as he spoke. He knew that he should have spoken with Hephaistion in private, prepared him for the meeting, but he hadn't and now...Through out the turmoil filled meeting he'd cast a few quick glances at his close friend only to note that Hephaistion's blue eyes were focused solely on the wall in front of him. Alexander noted too that Hephaistion had not moved a muscle, he was frozen in place. He guzzled the remaining wine in his cup and spun when a loud voice broke the tense quiet.

"Alexander! Be reasonable!"

Cassander's screech drew his attention from Hephaistion's odd demeanor and his general's narrow minded remarks let the arrow of the irate king's wrath finally fly. The young man, fool that he was, caught the full brunt of it. Alexander had never liked Cassander. The man was always sneaking glances at Hephaistion and he reminded Alexander of one of his mother's snakes. Lunging forward he slammed the stunned man up against the wall by his throat and screamed, spit flying, in Cassander's shocked face. He felt a hand on his shoulder and as he released Cassander he spun round swinging a huge roundhouse at the intruder to his ire. He connected and the man staggered back.

"Alexander." Hephaistion said very softly through now bloodied lips. He was not angry with Alexander, he knew the punch was simply a reaction, but what occurred next shattered him.

"And you!" Alexander advanced on Hephaistion menacingly. "You my pretty whore. I suppose you," he shoved Hephaistion backwards hard with both hands. "are going to play out your role as the spurned lover! In an attempt to halt my will!" He shoved his old friend again. Knocking him back another few steps, his rage and frustration blinding him. "Spurned and kicked from the king's warm bed!" Another vicious shove. Only this time Hephaistion shoved him back and then back again. Alexander swung at him and connected with Hephaistion's right temple. The blow stunned him; he fought off a wave of nausea, and blinked away the sparks shooting around behind his eyes. " Spurned after a lifetime of faithful service, relegated to being just another of my pets. Will that be your petty little part in this Hephaistion? Will you try to change my mind out of childish needs and jealousies?" He pushed Hephaistion again. "Maybe I will allow you to sleep with Bagoas in his chambers! Keep you nearby and close at hand." Hephaistion pushed Alexander again and landed a left that dropped his king to his knees. "Spurned and cast away, is that the part you choose to play?" He screamed as he stood and swinging again hit Hephaistion, double fisted, in the gut. The stunned general dropped to his knees retching and looked up at his attacker with eyes that through his anger bled despair, confusion and utter sadness.

Hephaistion stood slowly and advanced three paces so that he stood chest to chest with his king. Alexander could smell the vomit on Hephaistion's breath. They'd fought before but Alexander had never so brutally flayed Hephaistion's spirit and never had they fought in the company of the others. Their battles usually ended in bed one fighting for control over the other, a mix of passion and fury. Disagreements more often then not fueled their desire, and punches played the part of foreplay. Today though Alexander had done the unthinkable, he had crossed over the line that divided Hephaistion from the others and allied himself with them. He had named him as nothing more than a simple poser, a whore fucking his way into the kings favor. He had no words to convey his pain and he knew that he had to still appear strong despite this seeming turn in Alexander's favor. A part of his mind screamed that Alexander was just enraged and had not meant the accusations, but it mattered not, the words had been spoken and even if by some act of the gods the two worked this out, the damage to Hephaistion's already rocky standing as Alexander's closest companions was destroyed. Reduced to nothing more than a mere selfish, sexual hold on his king a hold that Alexander 'allowed' him. That Alexander tolerated. A hold with no more honor, merit or meaning than that of Bagoas'.

In a movement so quick and subtle that for the briefest second no one in the room caught it Hephaistion reached out and grabbed the dagger secured at Alexander's waist. The room then came alive with added tension as swords were drawn, and men stepped forward. Hephaistion vaguely registered the wave of Alexander's hand as he halted their progress. Staring unwaveringly into Alexander's gray eyes he then removed his own dagger from his belt. The two weapons were identical, taken from Chaeronia, carried into the battle by two of the warrior lovers that made up the Sacred Band. Their ivory hilts carved with two naked warriors entwined around one another and together fighting against a lion. Alexander had taken them from the bodies of two of the famed warriors, one dead, speared through five times, but he still had his body wrapped protectively around that of his wounded companion. Alexander had slain the mortally wounded man at the Thebans request. His pleas that he be allowed to follow his lover into death tearing at Alexander's heart, reducing the idealistic young general to tears.

Still staring into Alexander's eyes Hephaistion tore down the front of his robe and bared his chest. The pin that held the garment closed, a symbol of Alexander's companions, fell with a metallic ring to the floor. He squinted his blue eyes a bit and sighed deeply, his actions bolstered by hurt and grief. Then taking both daggers in his right hand, one atop the other he dragged them slowly, without flinching across the bronzed skin of his chest, both blades biting deeply, his crimson blood running down in thick, laborious rivulets from the parallel slashes. Hephaistion dropped the weapons to the floor, and tore his pendant from his neck dropping it too on the floor, the leather thong ripping deeply into his flesh. He then smeared his right hand through the blood and spoke in a low controlled voice free of tremor.

"You, my Alexander, have sacrificed me today as you would a mere chicken. Revel my King, King Alexander in this glorious tribute to… yourself." He reached out and smeared his bloodied hand down Alexander's face from the man's forehead to his chin. Forcing some of the blood into Alexander's parted lips as he passed slowly almost sensuously over them. "This, my blood, is the flavor of your newest folly, and your basest act to date, and I do not mean your decision to marry. You are… Alexander, truly a great and magnanimous king. If this deceit, my Alexander, is what it means to be you, to be also Alexander, then let this act show you, 'my Alexander', my Achilles, that I have and Patroclus has cut you from our hearts."

Then with out a glance at the other men in the room, he turned and made to leave, pausing for a long moment at the door awaiting the cold feel of steel as swords were thrust into his back as punishment for his treason. It never came and disappointed, he walked back to his rooms.

Hephaistion barely held himself together long enough to make it back to his quarters. Between the news he'd received in his correspondences that morning and Alexander's decision to marry, topped off with his lovers horrible treatment of him just moments ago he was flying apart, being rent into pieces by the overload of tangled emotions flooding his mind.

Upon entering his quarters he sent Milos, his page, away and headed directly for the wine jar pouring himself a large unmixed cupful and drinking it down in three long guzzles. He refilled it and sat down on the bottom of his bed. The second cup was downed as quickly, followed by a third. After filling the fourth he sat toying with the cup's intricate engravings as he waited for the fire in his stomach to numb his mind. The cup depicted two young men on a hunt, and it drove home the despair and loneliness that he was feeling. He hurled the cup at the wall and then in a wanton frenzy of destruction he flew like a wounded bull about the room destroying all the contents. Furniture was upended and crushed, pottery smashed, linens shredded, pictures torn from the frames and the silk curtains yanked from the window. How long it took he had no clue. But as the wine finally slammed into his brain he found himself in front of a large bust of Alexander pounding his fists against the marble face completely oblivious to the damage or the pain the tantrum was inflicting. He stopped only after the bust had fallen from its pedestal, in his fury he'd not felt the bone in his left hand shatter and a bone in his right wrist snap. The white marble statue was covered in his blood and bits of skin and his knuckles were a mess of unrecognizable pulpy flesh.

He went to the door and called for the page. The boy, he knew, would not have left and true enough the confused lad was sitting just outside the door.

" Milos, pour me wine please."

The boy did as ordered, mixing the drink this time and after placing the cup in his lords shattered hands took up a place in a corner surveying the wreckage with huge fright filled eyes.

Hephaistion had always been quiet and reserved and this behavior frightened Milos. They read together and studied philosophy together. He helped Hephaistion with his reams of paperwork and watched studiously as the older man worked miracles when it came to keeping supplies flowing and projects moving ahead. He rarely asked that Milos perform any function for him that Hephaistion could do for himself. He was more of a pupil, a student, a son and young confidant than anything else. Milos had waited for three long years to be taken to bed by his gentle master but it had never occurred. The sixteen year old, a bit wisened for his age due to the company he kept, finally decided that there was only one person who would ever share Hephaistion's bed and that was the king. He'd often felt sorry for his gentle lord on the nights that he knew that Hephaistion knew that the eunuch was keeping Alexander company. Milos had cried for his kind master's loneliness on many occasions. He had no idea what had occurred to cause this outburst but he was certain that Hephaistion needed the doctor and that the kind man had been irrevocably wronged somehow.

Milos watched as Hephaistion paced about the rubble of his quarters. Finally, after his master sat down on the widow ledge, the boy went to him shyly with a cool wash cloth and a basin of water.

"Hephaistion, let me wash your face my lord, you are…are injured. Please, gentle Hephaistion?" He shivered when his master only stared straight ahead, his ice blue eyes heavy with wine and sadness for a long moment before blinking and looking into the boy's gentle face.

"You may take some time for yourself, Milos. Go, now have some fun. Go and see your Leonidas." He waved a battered hand toward the door. "I will send for you Milos. Do not worry yourself about me." The boy turned to go and stopped at the sound of his name. "Milos." He looked back at the distraught man on the sill. "Milos, always remember Milos, love your Leonidas well. Never…never cause his heart to shatter." The boy stood still and tears burst from his huge brown eyes. He knew then that it had been Alexander who had caused Hephaistion such heartbreak. He stepped quickly forward and threw his long arms around the stricken man and whispered in his ear that he loved him. Hephaistion was silent and simply nodded in agreement. Milos took his leave. He would seek out Leonidas but the two of them would not leave the hall outside of Hephaistion's door. After serving the young general for five years he knew Hephaistion's habits well. The man had no tolerance for his wine, and Milos, judging by the amount remaining in the jar, and reading the effect of the draught in Hephaistion's blurry eyes knew that the stricken man would soon fall asleep, then him and Leonidas would tend to his wounds.

Alexander fled the council chamber and hurried back to his rooms. The taste of Hephaistion's blood sickened him and no sooner had thrown himself through his door then he was heaving up the contents of his stomach. He knealt in the foyer of the large suite and retched until he had nothing left. He could feel the skin on his face tightening as the thick blood dried there. Stunned he dropped the two daggers and the pendant to the timber floor and gasped at the slice across his palm. In his grief he'd grasped the two weapons so tightly that they had cut deeply into his flesh. Alexander stood and paced the floor bound by indecision. He wanted to rush to Hephaistion, fix what he had broken, undo the horrible hurt. The sound of Cassander's and Parminion's cruel laughter at his apparent ousting of Hephaistion still rang in his ears. How could they hate him so completely. Their glee at this suprising turn of events between the two life long friends sickened the king and brought tears to his eyes. Finally after a time he snatched up the daggers and the pendant and ignoring his injury and his ghastly blood smeared appearance, made his way to Hephaistion's room.

When he arrived before Hephaistion's door he found a distraught Milos and Leonidas sitting on the floor beside it. Milos had been crying and Leonidas had an arm around his friend trying to comfort him. Both boys jumped to their feet at Alexander's arrival. He waved them off and stood listening to the resumed slamming and pounding issuing forth from Hephaistion's room, his brow pursed in worried concentration. Alexander looked at Milos his eyes asking the questions.

"My King, I do not know. There was nothing left to smash when I left him a short while ago. I wanted to wait until he slept so that I might sneak back in and tend his wounds, he drank much unmixed wine but still, somehow, he rages."

Alexander nodded and stood silently outside the door. He jumped back as an animalistic scream cut through the the hall, raising the hairs on his neck. It was followed by four more and then more smashing. Despite his manners Milos lunged at Alexander and grasped the king's bloody hand in his trembling ones.

"Please, Alexander, please…" He knew his king well, and to a degree certain formalities were dropped in private. Alexander was a frequent visitor to Hephaistion's chambers and Milos was a courier for his lord often being sent to Alexander's rooms on errands.

Seeing the terror and love in the boy's eyes drove Alexander forward. He pushed through the door and slammed it loudly shut behind him in an effort get the attention of the dervish flying about puching and kicking at anything still large enough to destroy. Hephaistion swung round at the sound and advanced on Alexander with a rush of epithets his voice slurred with blind fury and wine.

"Get out!" He screamed as he shouldered Alexander backwards toward the door. "You would dare come to me now! Get out! Get out! Get out!" He raised his fists to strike him but on first contact the pain halted him. Again he shouldered Alexander. "Leave me, Alexander!" He pushed again and Alexander was backed up against the door. "You no longer exit for me! You-are-dead!" He articulated his words by pounding against his friends chest with his broken fists. "Get-out!" The scream was beastial and Alexander flinched before its fury. He had never in all their years together witnessed his lover in such an uncontrollable state of fury. Hephaistion, reached up and grabbed, as best as his broken hands could, a handful of Alexander's thick blonde hair in each battered hand. He continued to scream incoherently as he pounded Alexander's head against the thick timber door. Their eyes never left one another and Alexander let himself be assaulted.

"What the hell is that!" Cleitus bellowed. The two had thought it wise to check on the injured young general.

Milos and Leonidas both spun at the loud voice. They bowed and stood at attention. Ptolemy and Cleitus stood before them staring not at them but at the door.

"Well, Milos, what is going on in there!" Ptolemy pressed again.

"Heph. Lord Hephaistion is, is, angry with the king, he has wrecked the room and himself, Lord Ptolemy. His hands, his hands are… Alexander is in there and now there is this awful pounding now on the door. They were near the door Lord, their voices were close, now this."

All four cringed as yet another inhuman scream was heard, followed by two more. The pounding on the door had ceased but the memory of the scream hung in the air.

"Alexander's in there?" Cleitus asked with a raised eyebrow and grabbing the frightened boy by the shoulder. He was sworn to protect the king and he knew well enough that if Hephaistion wanted to kill his charge he could and from the sounds of the battle raging behind the door this was no simple lovers spat. Yes, they might tease the pair on occasion about their tiffs but this was something bigger. Milos and Leondidas nodded in tandem. "I'm goin' in! Ptolemy?"

"Cleitus, it's between them." His voice was petulant and bothered.

"Not any more, what the devil's…" He stopped when another scream cut through the thick door follwed by more crashing sounds, and then complete quiet.

Cleitus pushed the door open and stepped cautiously into the room with Ptolemy behind him. They were stunned at degree of destruction spread out before them. Only the bed remained, although divested of its linens, intact.

Alexander was crouched in one corner where Hephaistion had thrown him like a rag doll, and Hephaistion was sprawled on his back across the bare bed seemingly unconscious. Cleitus nodded at Ptolemy indicating that he should go to Alexander, and he made his way hand on his dagger to where Hephaistion lay.

Cleitus looked down at the prostrate man and despite himself jumped when the eyes shot open and he sat quickly up. His hands were resting in his lap and Cleitus was shocked to see the state they were in. He let loose of his dagger, there was no possible way Hephaistion was going weild a weapon with those hands.

"I have been…waiting…for this. For you." He reached out and absently stroked the sword at Cleitus' side. "I am glad Cleit…Cleitus that it is…will be you." He swayed unsteadily, and went on slurring his words. "Promise me something, Cleitus, p…promise me that, that when you drive, drive your blade into my heart, my heart, that you are smiling Cleitus. I want to recall for all eternity, the joy that, that you will all take, take in my death." He rocked back and his eyes rolled up, Cleitus steadied him and turned to Alexander and Ptolemy.

Alexander was a wreck, crying and shaking, his hair a bloody mess from where his scalp had been torn against the door. He would be of no help in calming Hephaistion. Cleitus jumped again when Milos touched his arm.

"Milos you and Leonidas fetch cool water, and if it can be had ice. Also the king's physician. Not a word of what you've seen here today will leave your lips boy and tell Leo tha same. Not a word." The boy nodded and slipped from the room.

"Well Black…Black Cleitus, have you no stom…stomach for the job? As…as for me I am ready. My Alexander is dead, my father is dead, and I will follow gladly."

Cleitus turned his head at the strangled cry that escaped from his king's lips when he heard Hephaistion's words, then turned back to the drunk, shattered man sitting on the edge of the bed. He struggled with Hephaistion's comment. Amyntor dead? No, not Amyntor. Not knowing what else to do he unbuckled and removed his sword and unsheathed his dagger. He held the weapons up for Hephaistion to see. A peace offering of sorts, an attempt to ease the drunk man's mind to show that he was not there to exact punishment then turning he walked across the room and put them high on a now emptied shelf. Sighing he turned and faced the mess spread out before him. One distraught and wounded king, one insane, drunk and very injured companion and a battle scene for a bed chamber. He prayed to Zeus to give him strength and joined Ptolemy. Hephaistion had succumbed to the wine and his emotional outburst and passed out on the bed. It was going to be a long night. Damn these two! The old general thought. By all the gods if this was unconditional and god wrought love then Cleitus wanted none of it.


	2. What Price Fury II

Author: Rothalion

Title: What Price Fury

Rating: PG for now.

Fandom: Stones movie

Summery: Not For the first time in their relationship Hephaistion is a victim of Alexander's wrathful temper. Mitigating issues play a part weakening the faithful Generals defenses causing him to retaliate and havoc ensues before the two can reunite. I can't help but feel as though these two had there fair share of brawls. Egos aside…besides Hephaistion's got other things on his mind.

Genre: Anger and angst and reconciliation

Reviews: Please send advice to and thanks!

Disclaimer: Mr. Stone for this one, he brought them to life so we can torment them! Not purely movie driven I tweaked it a bit.

What Price Fury

II

Alexander awoke feeling as though he'd been fighting a pitched battle all night long. His body ached, his head felt as if it wanted to burst and his eyes were raw and bloodshot. He lay unmoving for long moments as he tried to string together what bits of memory he had and form a complete picture of the previous day's events. The main theme that tickled at his growing awareness was that Hephaistion had been blind with fury. That Hephaistion had struck him. That Hephaistion had, in the presence of the companions, punched him and performed a sadistic gesture of self mutilation to make his anger and betrayal with Alexander known. How had the whole meeting gone so wrong. Yes, he was drunk. Alexander seldom attended a council meeting drunk, but he'd stayed up pondering his decision to marry Roxane and drinking alone the entire night before the meeting and continued through the breakfast hours before. It was, he'd thought, the only way that he could tell Hephaistion, tell his generals of his decision. Then once they'd angered him, denied him…Sure he'd meant to call after Hephaistion and speak to him that night but the wine kept flowing and he'd kept drinking. He shuddered when he recalled that Hephaistion had actually sent for him. A rare occurrence since he'd taken Bagoas. If Alexander and Hephaistion were not together the general had begun assuming that Alexander was with the eunuch and gave them privacy. Enrapt with his own demons the king had denied the invitation.

Sitting up on the bed he reached to his bruised face and tried to rub the remaining bleariness from his eyes. The white linen bandage on his hand stopped him. Yes, this was indeed going to be a day of surprises. A cough drew his attention and as he turned in the direction it had come from he hoped for the briefest instant that his eyes would find Hephaistion sitting with him. Denied, he fought down the surge of anxiety that overwhelmed him and caused him to shudder when he realized the man sitting in the chair was Cleitus.

"You would guard me in my sleep now Cleitus?" He rasped at the smug man. His voice not his own but rough and hoarse as if his throat were clogged with sand.

"Only because you needed guarding lad. Now get yourself up you've a despondent lover to attend to before he turns berserker on us again. By the gods that lad is pure terror unleashed when he's that pissed off." Along with a sense of awe, Alexander could not miss the sarcasm and anger in Cleitus' voice. "5000 men with that kinda' fury and we'll own Persia for you in a month."

"How is he? Have the others come out against him?"

Cleitus snorted and sneered derisively at his king. He did not consider himself entirely friendly with Hephaistion but his heart had bled for the boy yesterday. There was only one thing besides their love for Alexander, and that was as different as night and day, that the two generals had in common; Hephaistion's father, Amyntor. Cletus had been attached to general's command for quite a while as a young man and had worked closely with him. He'd learned as much from Amyntor as he had from Philip and he still held the old general in the highest esteem. He mourned the loss of his services after the horrible wound had forced him to retire and live out his days tending his orchards and horses. Now he mourned his death. Unlike Philip he was a man you could easily love without fear of retribution. In fact the more Cleitus had reminisced about his old general as he waited through the long night, the more he saw how much like his father Hephaistion was. It went beyond the crystalline blue eyes and glad smile they both possessed, it was something about the surprisingly gentle nature that both father and son kept hidden just beneath the cloak of soldier and warrior that these warring times required them to wear. So yesterday his heart went out to his rival. He'd pushed aside his jealousy and envy; looked past the events at the meeting as a way the eliminate Hephaistion from the ranks and instead trudged to stricken man's rooms. Then to find out about Amyntor…No wonder the younger general had been a whirlwind of uncontrollable emotions. Amyntor and Hephaistion were as close as a father and son could be. The two never took pains to hide it. Cleitus knew that the news had probably crushed the young man.

"How is he Alexander? Funny you should ask." He stood and crossed to the bed and continued after squatting down so he'd be eye level with the king. "You have, my king, the most impeccable sense of timing and an uncanny ability at coordinating grand gestures and events so that they have…well just right impact." He paused and squinting studied Alexander's face. "You do know that don't you Alexander? Works so well for you in battle, I suppose that you may as well use it in council as well."

"Get on with it Cleitus!"

"You'd scold me you fool of a pup!" His eyes flashed in anger now. "Amyntor's dead!" He let the words sink in. "Hephaistion found out in a letter the night before the meeting. Leo said that he was very upset and sent for you, but the great Alexander was drunk and enjoying himself at staying that way so he refused the request. Does he ever, has he ever yet refused you? You boars ass! I have a mind to treat you like the spoilt child you behaved like yesterday; throw you over my knee and spank the insolence, and impertinence out of you like I used to!"

"Dead…Amyntor? How? When?" Alexander gasped and stood up. Awake now, the dullness had gone from his mind, with what little color he had in his face and was replaced with a sense of urgency.

"As long ago as it takes for a letter to get here. Sickness."

Alexander threw on a robe and turned for the door only to be blocked by Cleitus. "Move aside, Cleitus I have to get to him!"

"Do the words, 'Patroclus and I have cut you from our heart.' ring a bell?" He paused and watched grief play across Alexander's features as the memory shot back into focus. "What makes you think he'd even want to see you after the display you put on in council yesterday? You shamed and belittled him beyond apology Alexander. For the life of me I don't have a clue as to how you could possibly repair what you've done. The others…sure Parminion and Cassander, Craterus, sure want to try him but to what end? Cassander was equally out of line as were you. Go to him. But after thinking on it through the night Alexander, I'm not so sure that I'd be inclined to waste my time prying his hands from your throat should they find their way there. Though broken as his hands are they'd be of no use to him anyway." He stepped aside, pushed the door open and gestured for the king to pass by him. Together they strode swiftly toward Hephaistion's room in silence. Alexander could not help but wonder at Cleitus' closing remark. Broken…Hephaistion's hands were some how broken.

"Cleitus he's not alone is he?" The king finally asked as they neared the room where Hephaistion had been moved to. His old room would have to be redone.

Cleitus grabbed Alexander by the bicep and hauled him to a stop. "What measure of bastard do you take me for! Yes Alexander. I left him alone and babysat you. No, I'd not leave him. Pltolemy stayed the night with him. And Alexander do not muck this up. He's had a hell of a couple of days and too many shocks!"

The king yanked his arm free and continued on. Cleitus stopped in front of the door and told him to wait. He entered quietly and Ptolemy stood to greet him.

"Good Cleitus, I hope you slept more than we did. He tossed and turned and cried all night. Unbelievable really considering the wine. The king?"

"Hallway. Still sleeping?"

"For a while now, finally." He stretched and yawned. " He passed a horrible night Cleitus. Never have I seen a man shed tears while asleep. His grief is deep. Do we dare leave them alone? Leo needs to sleep he's spent."

Cleitus crossed to the bed and looked down at Hephaistion. He lay on his side curled into a small ball, covered in soft blankets with his arms wrapped tightly around a extra pillow. His breathing was soft and even. To the old general he seemed very childlike. He had the urge to brush a strand of hair from the sleeper's cheek but thought better of. Instead he tucked the blanket tighter to Hephaistion's shoulders and turned back to Ptolemy.

Alexander had stepped quietly into the room feeling strangely enough like an intruder. Hephaistion was his to care for and it was odd to see these other two men care for him.

"He still sleeps then?" He asked quietly drawing their attention from the sleeper.

"Yes, and let him, Alexander. The doctor says he needs to rest, and to be kept calm. Try to keep him calm Alexander. We are going to get some rest ourselves. Do not worry about Parminion and Craterus. There is no treason here unless you punish yourself as well for not letting Cassander speak freely. Let this all pass quietly. Just take care of him." Ptolemy nodded toward the bed. "If he will not have you then send for one of us. Nearchus offered to sit with him as well. Just let us know."

The two generals turned to go and Alexander was left alone with Hephaistion. He walked to the bed wringing his hands and trembling slightly. Not have him. It was an unimaginable thought.


	3. The beginnings of a very long reconcilli...

Author: Rothalion

Title: What Price Fury

Rating: PG for now.

Fandom: Stones movie

Summery: Not For the first time in their relationship Hephaistion is a victim of Alexander's wrathful temper. Mitigating issues play a part weakening the faithful Generals defenses causing him to retaliate and havoc ensues before the two can reunite. I can't help but feel as though these two had there fair share of brawls. Egos aside…besides Hephaistion's got other things on his mind.

Genre: Anger and angst and reconciliation

Reviews: Please send advice to and thanks!

Disclaimer: Mr. Stone for this one, he brought them to life so we can torment them! Not purely movie driven I tweaked it a bit.

Alexander paced the small room. He'd stopped and stood three times now over the still slumbering Hephaistion. Stopped and reached out all three times to touch the man, whose heart he'd ripped in to pieces, he'd reached out and on each occasion his guilt drew his trembling hand back. Guilt. Of all the things he done in his short life this was the most heinous to date and he had absolutely no idea as to how he should begin to fix it. He'd ripped a chasm in his relationship with Hephaistion and undid all the other man's hard work at proving himself to the others. He wished that Hephaistion would just awaken and beat him senseless.

Finally he walked to the small table and sat down. He poured himself a glass of the cool water that had been set out by Leo and picked up the correspondence from Pella telling Hephaistion of his father's death. Alexander knew that Hephaistion's relationship with Amyntor was the antithesis of his own and Philip's. The two were extremely close and Hephaistion had suffered much uncertainty over his decision to go campaigning with Alexander or stay and aid his aging father. His love for Alexander had won out and knowing that they would never, in likely hood, see Pella again he said his goodbyes and with Amyntor's blessing, he followed his beloved Alexander into the unknown. Now Amyntor, Hephaistion's last ink to home was dead, and Alexander had seemingly cast him aside as well.

There was nothing else to do but pray to the gods that he could win him back, and let the council know that the breech in honor had been his and not Hephaistion's. He crossed to the wash basin and lifted it carefully. He carried it to the bed side and sat down on the edge of the pad. Carefully so as not to awaken him Alexander began to wipe Hephaistion's cheek and forehead with the cool refreshing water. As he dabbed the thin sheen of sweat from the sleepers face he spoke to him.

" Ahh my beloved Hephaistion, what grief I have brought upon you. What weakness allowed me to speak such cold and villainous words to the one I love so dearly. The one who before the eyes of the gods I have given my eternal soul. Hephaistion, no apology can sooth this wound, no apology can take back the pain that I know I have caused you. If you will, then punish me by withdrawing from my heart. I will bear the loss for a short time my love but I fear without that spark that is uniquely yours, the flame that ignites the furnace of my soul and drives me forever forward will extinguish itself in my desperate grief. I know that you hate me now. Hate this world that has stolen everything from you that you have ever loved, hate the fragility that is this life and the loss that the reality of our impermanence brings upon us. I know that you loved Amyntor well, as did I. And I will, if you would allow me to, grieve his passing with you. Help you carry the sadness that I well know fills your gentle heart. Hephaistion…"

"Alexander."

Alexander looked down into the blue pools of Hephaistion's tear reddened eyes. He moved slightly aside so that the groggy man could sit up. Hephaistion coughed, raised a battered hand to his face and clumsily pushed back a loose strand of hair. He sat completely still. Hunched up, leaning away to left, away from Alexander. His head hung down and he held his broken hands in his lap. Alexander studied the bloody bandages. Cleitus had not told him how Hephaistion had damaged them. All he recalled was that they were already battered when he'd arrived at Hephaistion's old room. He watched in silence as his lover tried weakly to stand but sat back down and eyed the chamber pot where is sat across the room with a frustrated sigh. Alexander stood and retrieved the item, set it on the floor in front of Hephaiston then stepped back and started to look away. Before he could fully turn he heard Hephaistion curse softly so he turned back to his friend. The saddened man stared forlornly down at the pot, his beaten hands rendering him helpless. Alexander read his thoughts then, and moved back to him. He stood quietly for a moment then knelt down in front of Hephaistion. He looked up at him trying to send his love and concern through his worried eyes, then took up the pot in his left hand and Hephaistion in his right.

After he'd finished Hephaistion leaned forward a bit, as Alexander set the pot aside, and with an unwelcome feeling of unwillingness rested his forehead on Alexander's shoulder so they were cheek to cheek. He shuddered at the feel of Alexander's stubble against his face. Alexander wrapped his arms around him and smoothed his hair. They said nothing there were no words.

They sat that way for a long while neither wishing to part, yet both feeling the horrible gap that now loomed between them. Finally Alexander eased Hephaistion's head up. He ran his thumbs across his lover's cheeks to erase the tears that still fell down them and softly kissed the ugly purple bruise that covered Hephaistion's temple and cheek. It was not an attempt at an apology but a generous attempt at easing the sad man's pain. Alexander knew that it was too soon for words requesting forgiveness. That would have to wait.

Keeping his voice a low whisper he spoke. "Phaistion," he'd risk the pet name and hoped it at least carried his love to his friend. "Let me tend to your wounds and bath you. Say nothing Hephaistion. Just allow me this honor, allow me that much." He finished speaking and waited with his head bowed for Hephaistion's answer.

"Honor, Alexander?" Hephaistion paused and tried to find words, any words at all to express the emotions ripping apart his soul. He suddenly regretted his weakness from earlier, the weakness that had allowed him to seek comfort in Alexander. It had been such an instinctive action, beyond his control. "Honor. I…can see to it myself. You have made it quite clear where you stand Alexander. Do the honorable thing and simply get out. Get out." His throat constricted at the words. Alexander knelt unmoving at his feet, head still bowed in a position of servitude and humility.

They stayed deadlocked like that for a while neither wanting to give ground. Hephaistion new how patient his king could be when he desired some thing badly enough. Get out. The words had hurt to say them. They'd been dredged up from a place so remote and deep within his heart that he had not, until he'd uttered the order in complete calmness, known to exist within him. Get out. He did not have the strength to command Alexander in a louder voice.

"Hephaistion. You need some help with this. I am begging to be allowed to do it. To…I know that you loved him with all of your heart my beloved. I loved him as well. I love…" He broke off, words of love would not heal this rift. "Hephaistion just let me bathe you, let me tend to these wounds, allow me to grieve for 'our' lost father, with you. Hephaistion, I am not asking for your forgiveness, I am merely asking that you give me a chance to heal with you. Hephaistion?"

Alexander looked up and into Hephaistion's dull eyes. He saw in them the same loss he'd felt when his own father had been murdered in front of him. No they had not been not close but Alexander cared for the man. Never in all their years together had Alexander witnessed such anguish in Hephaistion's blue eyes. The light that normally shown from them was completely gone and replaced an almost desperateness, a frightening glimmer of resignation. Alexander shuddered at the sight. Was his Hephaistion simply going to give up?

"Hephaistion?" He shook his friend gently and pleaded silently with his eyes for the distraught man to acknowledge him. Hephaistion shuddered and looked down at Alexander.

"Why didn't you come to me when I needed you?" The question was whispered. Hoarse with regret and pain, riddled with the trembling of coming tears. "When have I ever asked anything of you Alexander? Why couldn't you just come to me?" He sighed and went on. There was no anger in his tone, only sad regret. "I could give a damn about the meeting Alexander. The men have always hated me, it matters not to me any longer. Now they simply have the proof that they have always wished for. The proof of your contempt for my love. It changes nothing. Why didn't you come to me Alexander? I know that Leo told that it was urgent, that I was upset… The one time I truly needed you by my side, the one time in all these years that I needed you to hold 'me' up, the one time that I finally gave in to my loneliness, admitted my weakness and actually risked you thinking that I was too weak and therefore no longer capable of bearing you up, the only time…why Alexander? If not because what you said in that meeting was true, then why? What kept you from me?" He shuddered and placed his bandaged hands on each side of Alexander's face. Blue eyes battled with gray for a moment and finally when both had filled with tears the broke the stare. "By the gods I-needed-you." He finished with a choked sob.

"Wine." He answered flatly. "Wine and thoughts of only myself and my own problems Hephaistion. Selfishness."

So that was it Alexander thought. Not so much his tirade in the meeting. Not so much the fact that he'd been shamed before his peers but that Alexander had failed to heed the importance of Hephaistion's request that he come to him. Alexander knew that he should have read between the lines of the message should have know intuitively that Hephaistion was in trouble if he'd actually asked for him to come but he hadn't and nothing could reverse that mistake. Nothing.

"Come, Hephaistion. I am going to bath you. I am going to re-bandage your wounds and nurse you until they are healed. I am going to mourn Amyntor with you, at your side for as long as you need me. I will win back your love and trust. I will make this right between us if it takes until the end of time. I 'will' Hephaistion. What I will not do though, my Hephaistion, is ask you to or expect you to grant me your forgiveness. Not in this lifetime or the next. I do not deserve it, and I will not accept it. All that I will accept from you is to bask once again in your love and your devotion just as I once did before this grim day. That is all that I will accept. I will wait, Hephaistion. Wait as long as the gods deem it necessary to punish me with the loss of you. I will have your heart and soul as mine again. I give to you my love, I give to you from the depths of my soul all the comfort that I can to help ease your grief at the loss of Amyntor and myself. Now come, you need to soak away yesterday and I need to begin my journey down the long road that will be my path to redemption in this matter. Come."


	4. The Shame of Silence and the Pain of Los...

Author: Rothalion

Title: What Price Fury

Rating: PG for now.

Fandom: Stones movie

Summery: Not For the first time in their relationship Hephaistion is a victim of Alexander's wrathful temper. Mitigating issues play a part weakening the faithful General's defenses causing him to retaliate and havoc ensues before the two can reunite. I can't help but feel as though these two had there fair share of brawls. Egos aside…besides Hephaistion's got other things on his mind.

Genre: Anger and angst and reconciliation

Reviews: Please send advice to and thanks!

Disclaimer: Mr. Stone for this one, he brought them to life so we can torment them! Not purely movie driven I tweaked it a bit.

Thanks: To everyone who awaits updates to this tale and all who provide encouragement. I thought that this chapter would lean toward a conclusion but it seems instead to have opened up the thing to more stuff…we'll just have to see where it goes. Do not despair. Leave that to me….

Chapter Four

The Shame of Silence and the Pain of Loss

"I don't know what to do for him Nearchus, he is so lost it seems. I would have never thought that Amyntor's death would effect him so strongly." Alexander said morosely as the two men watched Hephaistion make his way across the terraced area to the temple for the third time that day.

"Alexander, we all grieve the loss of our fathers. Hephaistion and his father were extremely close though. Think on it a moment. The rest of us most of our lives were spent apart from our fathers. Mine was nearly always away on some campaign or another, yours was always busy with running the country, Ptolemy and Cassander as well our fathers were always away. We grew up with the expectation of never seeing them again each time that they left us. But Hephaistion, he never had that fear of loss, the fear of loosing his father. Amyntor had already been retired when he was just a very small boy. You know as well as I do that Amyntor raised him alone and they spent every moment that they could together. Don't you recall how he moped for months after coming to Mieza. Had he not fallen into your heart I don't think anything would have cheered him up. He missed Amyntor. I think that in a way you replaced him. It was just them just as now it is always just the two of you.. He loved his father as much as he loves you I think, so his grief is deep and filled with regret and guilt at not having been at Amyntor's side. Hephaistion does nothing in small bits Alexander, and that applies to how he loves as well. Also to how he grieves."

"Yes, then I deny him my comfort and call him out in front of his peers. By the gods I have made royal mess of all this."

"It istrue that he prays a lot these last few weeks, its never been like him to overly indulge the gods. He is devout but three and four times a day he's off to the temple, what is he seeking Alexander?"

The king shook his head. He had no idea what Hephaistion sought at the temple. While Alexander always paid his tribute to his gods Hephaistion was often negligent in the practice. Now the man had suddenly found some solace or peace in the temple. "Nearchus if only I knew, if only I knew."

"Follow him and see what he prays for Alexander."

"Maybe, maybe. I just feel so lost with out him at my side in council and at diner and…well anytime. It's bad enough when I send him off on a mission, I drive myself crazy with worry that he'll disappear but this…to have him right in front of me, to feel his pain and not know how to ease it because all the tools I once had to do that have been taken from me. He knows the words to bring cities peacefully to my feet in surrender but by the gods I do not have the words to bring a simple peace between us. Oh if only I could ask his advice in solving my problem I know that he would set me straight."

"Ask him then. What do you have to loose? Maybe Alexander it is a simple as that. Seek out his advice just as would normally do when you are troubled." Nearchus yawned as he finished speaking and stood up stretching his stiff back. "By the gods Alexander I truly do hate horses and mountains! You need to get me back on a ship and out on the water again soon or I will be asking the gods for a new spine."

Alexander stood with him and frowned, they said their goodbyes, embraced. Nearchus heading off to meet his lifelong companion and lover Nicco and Alexander, without further thought, headed off straight toward the temple. What, after all, did he have to loose. He wanted to heal the rift between them before the wedding and it was fast approaching; only six days away. Maybe the temple would offer enough peace that Hephaistion would open up to him.

Alexander entered the cool, dry darkness of the small temple that had been quickly constructed on the grounds of the Sodium complex. He found it slightly ironic that it had been Hephaistion's assignment to oversee it's construction. Now it seemed as though the grieving man lived in the dimly lit building. Hephaistion was sitting, as he'd always had a wont to do, cross legged in front of the deity wrapped in his favorite cloak, rocking gently. Alexander warmed at the sight; it was the cloak that he had given him, he knew Hephaistion wore it to keep him close or when he sought comfort. Alexander could barley hear his whispered prayers as he approached silently; waving off the priests and attendants with a warning of silence as he went. They all quietly slipped from the alter room giving the two men the privacy Alexander sought. With a silent sigh and a prayer of his own he approached the only person in the world he'd truly ever loved.

Hephaistion was so enrapt in his praying that he did not hear Alexander step up behind him. He started and spun his head round to face the intruder as Alexander placed his hand gently on Hephaistion's slumped shoulder.

"Shh." Alexander whispered placing a finger on his lips. "Shh."

Hephaistion looked up at him his blue eyes full of questions, and also a hint of reproach for having been interrupted during a private moment. He silently scolded himself at the glare, when had there ever been anything 'private' between them. Alexander sat down cross legged as well, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee beside the hunched shell of a man that was his friend. Hephaistion leaned away from him but could not deny the goose bumps that had riffled down his spine at Alexander touch.

After long moments passed in silence Alexander finally found the courage to speak. It had been easier to attack Darius at Gaugamela he thought to himself. Love, how could it incite such fear?

"Three times today. Five yesterday."

"You are spying on me Alexander?" Hephaistion replied, stretching a bit but wary of touching Alexander.

"No, not really, Hephaistion. I…I just caught a glimpse of you headed this way. Well, and yes, I suppose I've heard it told that you are coming here quite often."

More silence. Off in a corner a rat scurried and Alexander saw Hephaistion flinch and pull his cloak tighter around his bent shoulders. He knew that Hephaistion feared a rat more than he feared an entire battalion of Persians.

"Its run off. It's ok now. Relax." Alexander offered. He wished he knew the reason for his friend's unnatural terror of the little beasts, he'd fight a lion empty handed before he stood before a rat. It made no sense to Alexander, he'd cared nothing about them when they were youths. They'd hunted and caught them for sport. Then, out of nowhere, the new terror appeared. Alexander first observed it after returning from his exile for attacking Attalus. Hephaistion had been kept behind by Philip as a punishment to Alexander. Hephaistion's sleep had been plagued with horrible nightmares of the little creatures; waking Alexander nightly. It baffled and amused the other companions, and now Hephaistion and not the rats made for good sport; how many battles had Hephaistion waged over his outrageous and unexplainable fear of the rodents? Yet he still came to pray, sitting cross legged on the floor exposed to the animals attack.

"This isn't like you." Alexander said in a hushed voice not wanting to stir the calming silence, not wanting to breech the soothing effect that the darkness and solitude of the chamber.

"What Alexander? Praying or fearing rats?"

'Stubborn fool', Alexander thought to himself, stubborn fool. He'd deny himself water and food and beg for his death if it meant giving an inch. Only Bucephelus was more thick headed.

"I…" They hadn't spoken in three weeks and the silence was difficult to breech. "What is it that you are asking for, praying for, secluding yourself for weeks now, in this darkness for. Hephaistion you will fade away, you…"

"It is the silence Alexander."

"The silence?"

"I only ask to hear it…hear it just one more time, so that I can…can stamp it into my memory. I thought that in this silence…I keep trying but…"

Alexander watched Hephaistion's shoulders rise and fall as a long sigh escaped his lips.

"Hear what my friend?" He placed his hand on Hephaistion's knee and squeezed it gently. "Hear what?"

Hephaistion began to shake, his shoulders bowing beneath some burden unknown to Alexander. "His…his voice. His voice. It's gone from my head. It has fled Alexander…oh, by the gods what crime have I done to be punished so…what deed can I do that will grant me forgiveness and return the sound of it to my memory. Alexander…my father!"

He turned then to face Alexander getting on his knees, tears streaming down his pale, stubble coarsened cheeks. Alexander shuddered at the site of him. Hephaistion was completely exhausted. He cursed himself for keeping his distance these past few weeks, and watching only from afar. Dark circles framed Hephaistion's blue eyes. Blue eyes that even during the harshest of tests had still sparkled with a glad and vibrant light. They were lifeless now, dull, and the dark of the temple had robbed his skin of the sun's healthy color. Those once flashing eyes were now full of pain and grief and confusion. Full of guilt and an anguish so unspeakable that Alexander instantly choked and only with an enormous effort held back his own tears, at least for just then until he could calm Hephaistion then he knew they could sob together, but for now…

"He is 'completely' lost to me! I'd not noticed until he was gone and now, and now…I try to hear him in my head…" he grasped first at Alexander's hands, weakly with his still healing ones, released them and then pressed the startled King's face between his palms. Staring into Alexander's eyes as if trying to extract some answer from him. He continued on his voice frantic and shaky. "I can't hear my father's voice any longer. I cannot recall the sound of his laugh, can't…hear…him…Alexander. I Pray. I pray and pray and pray and plead to be able to, just one time more in this silence to hear him again! And by all that I can offer I swear, I swear Alexander that I will never let it slip from my memory again. Alexander what have I done to deserve this pain? Grant me just this one thing my Great King just this…What have I done? I'd cut my own tongue from my head to be given just one last chance to hear him say he loved me to hear him…call me his Fierce Little Colt. Alexander!" Hephaistion moaned in his despair. What he said next though, crushed Alexander's pride and destroyed the great myth he'd been living. Hephaistion again took Alexander's hands in his and bowed his head to the floor of the temple in complete supplication to his King. "You are the son of Zeus-Ammon; are you not Alexander? By the judgment of Siwah? You, you told me so… I beg of you my King… I beg you… please grant me this if you truly are a god's son… grant me this one gift."

Alexander was at a complete loss. He knew that he could not grant his beloved's request and deep in his heart he knew he was no son of a god. He wished it and he craved it and it kept an Army of followers at his feet wielding their might at his asking but this, this was beyond any gift he could grant. There was no possible way to grant Hephaistion's prayer no way to give him back his father's voice. Alexander grieved then for the loss of his dream and for the loss of courage and confidence. So it was in fact all just tales and fables, just myth and the magic of words. His spirit was broken and his soul crushed. His hands and heart tied by the doom all men who think themselves great and divine suffer; the inevitable plunge back down from the lofty heights of godhood and into the grim pit of reality. The sound of Hephaistion's voice brought him back to the now.

He was still prostrated and his weary voice was muffled. "Alexander, is it because I doubted your love that day in the meeting, my words were in anger, I doubted you my King, my Achilles my, lover my…is that… I never meant to truly cut you from my heart. There is no blade sharp enough…"

Alexander placed his hands on Hephaistion's trembling shoulders and raised him up. The man was a wreck; weeks of grieving in solitude and loneliness had eroded the very fabric of the proud warrior's demeanor. He was but a shadow of himself. Pushing aside the pain tearing apart his own chest Alexander sought only to comfort Hephaistion. He took his beloved's face in his hands and spoke his heart with tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Hephaistion, Hephaistion my dearest friend and beloved Hephaistion; he is here," Alexander placed his right hand over the trembling man's heart, "he is and always will be here, 'my' Fiercest of Stallions. You are a colt no longer. We have both now tasted the true and bitter draught called death and we both will be stronger for it. Bear up now, mighty Hephaistion, bear up beneath this burden. Come now and see reason through your grief. I would never willingly leave your heart, cut from it or not. That day was folly and the fault all mine.

Every time, Hephaistion, that you gentle a horse, every time you calm a foaling mare, every time you weep over the death of some mount that you've trained or loved, every time you smile and beam at the sweetness of an apple or scorn and rant endlessly about the crookedness of a row of Persian pear trees, or voice your joy at just sitting and watching the sun set and when you smile at the giggles of children, ruffle their hair and school them in the ways of horses and orchards…oh but mostly my Phaistion when you love me; because he taught that which my father never taught his son. How to love. How to trust enough to just love with all that's in your heart. When you set my soul at ease or send me into rapture with your touches, all these things these skills and devices and quirks. You do realize, Hephaistion, that only you in this entire army can argue at length and with absolute conviction about the proper sweetness of a proper apple…it is in them, these joys and dreams and arguments that the voice of your father speaks Hephaistion. He is not lost to you…he is not. He is not, my beloved and he never will be. It was his gentle and unconditional love for his Fierce Little Colt that taught the Stallion how to love and I am the recipient of that teaching; of that very love. So often, as now, undeservedly so. He is with you, with us still, Hephaistion. I am sorry. No, sorry doesn't have enough merit… Hephaistion please, please let me be here for you…you wither away before my eyes…Hephaistion what would you have me do to earn your love again?"

Hephaistion was simply too exhausted to fight against it. He needed Alexander, had needed his strength for weeks now but stubborness and anger had kept him away. His chest burned and his mind still reeled at the memory of Alexander's words that day but his body…his body fell forward into Alexander's arms he had little choice in the act. Alexander pulled him tightly to his chest and crushed him into himself with all the strength he could. Hephaistion sobbed, he sobbed for the loss of Amyntor and of Alexander and of youth and life. He shook and trembled under the long over due onslaught of emotions but Alexander held him tight, trying to squeeze the desperation and grief from his body; like wringing dirty water from a sponge.

Long after the sun had set and the dinner hour had passed Alexander was awoken from his sleep in a very uncomfortable chair at Hephaistion's bedside with the feather touch of a kiss on his lips. He opened his eyes and found Hephaistion kneeling on the floor between his splayed knees. He sat up straighter and rubbed the sleep from his tear weary eyes. He'd cried for what seemed an endless time after Hephaistion had finally fallen asleep, at last succumbing himself to his fatigue. He had practically carried the distraught and exhausted man from the temple and then had put him to bed. After running his fingers through his hair and over his face, Alexander furrowed his brow and stared the man kneeling before him in sleepy confusion.

Hephaistion reached up and took Alexander's face in his hands, pulled him down just a bit and kissed him again but roughly this time, biting Alexander's lip. His face showed no joy or pleasure in the act only a certain seriousness, a sort of matter of fact-ness. It worried Alexander and he pulled away breaking the kiss off.

"I…want…you…Alexander." Hephaistion's voice was hoarse and demandining. Devoid of the love and tenderness usually present when they joined with one another. "Now." It was a hollow demand, a demand from some other person but certainally not his Hephaistion.

Alexander studied the blank face before him and tried, with a general's mind to gauge the threat that he was confronted with. 'Now'. That was not like Hephaistion, nor was the crass demand. What game then was being played here.

"Heph…"

"Now!" Was all he received in response. "Now, Alexander. You and me, now. I want you now." Hephaistion was trembling, his breath coming in heaving gasps. Like a horse before the charge, Alexander thought. His emotions bunched in a tight, tense and vibrating knot ready to pounce, ready to pound into submission anything in his path.

Hephaistion stood and pulled a still stunned Alexander roughly toward the large bed. He let himself be dragged along and then pushed roughly down onto the soft furs.

"Hephaistion."

"Shut up! Do not speak Alexander! Just do not! I want you. Want you now! Need…"

Hephaistion took Alexander. Silently, emotionlessly, without care or love or concern. Without any preparation. He tried to drive the memory of Alexander's cruel words at the meeting from his mind with every vicious thrust of his hips. Missing was the gentleness of his touch, missing were the soft whispers and caresses that usually defined their coupling. There was none of that. Just the brutish encounter of one man and another. As if they were desperate strangers fucking in some filth strewn alley, simply rutting for the sake of the act, for release. Hephaistion bit him and scratched him, clawing incessantly at his flesh as though Alexander was going to vanish, or be torn from his grasp. Alexander was reminded, in a grim flash of memory, of his father. Philip's animalistic treatment of his partners had always sickened Alexander and now…

Finished, Hephaistion collapsed, drenched in sweat, onto Alexander's chest. He was completely spent now that the fear, fury and need that had woken him from his sleep had been satiated. He had nothing left. Nothing. Three words swam listlessly across his waning consciousness. Words he'd promised to say, planned to say, prepared himself to say as he'd dragged himself from the remnants of the nightmare that had fueled his rage; 'Alexander, get out!' but not having the strength to utter them he just stayed where he was, a limp, numb empty heap of a man stretched out across Alexander's broad, heaving chest. Sleep found him quickly and all Alexander could do was try to make himself comfortable beneath Hephaistion's weight and hope that sleep would also find him and give him some respite from the nightmare that being awake had become.


	5. 5

Title: What Price Fury

Rating: PG for now.

Fandom: Stones movie

Summery: Not For the first time in their relationship Hephaistion is a victim of Alexander's wrathful temper. Mitigating issues play a part weakening the faithful General's defenses causing him to retaliate and havoc ensues before the two can reunite. I can't help but feel as though these two had there fair share of brawls. Egos aside…besides Hephaistion's got other things on his mind.

Genre: Anger and angst and reconciliation

Reviews: Please send advice to and thanks!

Disclaimer: Mr. Stone for this one, he brought them to life so we can torment them! Not purely movie driven I tweaked it a bit.

Thanks: To everyone who awaits updates to this tale and all who provide encouragement. Once again I thought that this chapter would lean toward a conclusion but it seems instead to have opened up the thing to more stuff…we'll just have to see where it goes. Do not despair. Leave that to me…. This is a bit of reflection for Hephaistion and me as well. It will probably be boring for you guys but since it wrote itself this way I guess Hephaistion needed to sort it out.

Five

Reality and Eventuality

Hephaistion awoke on his back with the sun shining in his face. Alexander was still asleep beside him one hand twined in Hephaistion's thick bronze hair and the other arm wrapped tightly, even in sleep, protectively across his broad chest. In a quick flash Hephaistion recalled the previous night's tussle. He'd been rough too rough and callous in his love making. Violent, something that rarely occurred between them and he was surprised that Alexander had actually stayed for the remainder of the night. Normally when their joining took such an angry turn Alexander left him alone for the rest of the evening knowing that Hephaistion was troubled by some inner demon and needed space and time alone to exorcise it. He knew that although typically satiated by the rough play Alexander was also a bit disturbed when he took him so roughly. It brought Alexander memories of Philip's harsh treatment of his lovers and Hephaistion was well aware that Alexander had always despised such a base lack of self control. He'd often asked where Hephaistion had learned such violent behavior and why it would erupt out of seemingly nowhere. Hephaistion never answered him, it was too much to think about, too much to share. More than he wanted to explain or try to define even to Alexander. It was what it was. He was what he was, who he was, shaped and defined by his past. Sometimes he simply felt the need to cause pain, to make a show of his so often belittled strength. To remind himself that he could be in control. He wasn't even sure he understood it, the fine line between love and anger, pain and pleasure but now and again Alexander ignited that spark and things between them took a rough turn. Even before, before the events that had truly forged his rare urge for violence he'd had a mean streak. As a child he'd taken pleasure in tormenting small prey before killing it. Hephaistion had Alexander to thank for gentling him, showing him a kindness he'd not known at home.

On the previous night Hephaistion had been driven to roughness by fear coupled with a gnawing hunger and a repressed anger furiously fueled by grief and an immature fear of rejection. He'd wanted to 'own' Alexander if only for a few brief final moments. Making him his, physically and emotionally. Hephaistion had never felt that particular need before and it frightened him. He was not even so certain, this time, that he even felt guilty about taking his pleasure as he had. Pleasure? Had it even been pleasurable? Yes, this time, it had been quite pleasurable he conceded guiltily. Then, pushing the thought of guilt from his mind, he focused on remembering the nightmare that had awoken him and driven his violent desperation. With a shudder, he allowed the vivid nightmare it play in his mind's eye.

The rats again. Huge horse sized rats with long, vicious whip like tails that tore at his back if he tarried. Flaying his skin even through his leather corset, cutting the armor from his body; trying to run him down as he flees on syrupy legs at an agonizingly slow pace, barely staying ahead of their advancing charge. Philip always rides the lead rat his face twisted in a wicked one eyed grin, his sword held high, ready to come in for the kill. Attulus rides beside him also grinning murderously, a smug satisfied look on his face. What terrifies Hephaistion the most is that Philip never just kills him, he always just hamstrings him and allows the rats slowly eat away at his crippled body bit by bit by agonizing bit tediously nibbling his flesh from his bones as he lies helpless in a bloody heap screaming for Alexander but no sound ever seems to come from his lips. Sometimes in the worst of the dreams Alexander actually appears but slowly morphs into a half rat half human before joining the feast and taking the choicest morsels; Hephaistion's heart and brain. In the nightmare Hephaistion lies helpless as Alexander hovers above him, holding him down by his shoulders with sharp clawed rat fingers; leering into his dying blue eyes with fiendish, red rodent orbs and as he gags on Alexander's fetid breath he squirms at the brush of Alexander's blood stiffened whiskers against his cheeks and throat. It is during those nightmares that Hephaistion wakes and crawls into a corner to huddle and rock like a silly, frightened child until the dawn chases the horrible visions from his beleaguered mind. He wondered why he'd never shared the horrific dreams with Alexander. He always lies and claims to not wholly recall them only saying that there were rats involved.

Last night's dream had been no different. In it Alexander came to him and began to sup on his flesh with the other rats, but when Hephaistion awoke and headed for the safety of his corner he found Alexander sitting asleep in a chair at his bedside. Fear was replaced by an overwhelmingly strong and raw fury fed desire to 'take' Alexander, so he'd grasped hold of the feeling and had sexually pummeled Alexander. Pummeled him out of an absolute fear of being deserted, out of a fear of being cast away like a spoiled bit of food on the dung heap, out of a terrifying need to hold on to the only true and certain source of love, affection and friendship left in his life. Hephaistion had clawed at and crushed Alexander to himself. He'd tried to drive himself into Alexander with force and fury, hammering him like a blacksmith forging layers of steal into a singular blade, trying to meld them irrevocably into the singular being that he knew that they should be. His childish, immature fear of separation overwhelmed him and was fueled by a burning, simmering anger at being cast aside and chastised so brutishly before the men and now to be set aside for a wife. His father had abandoned him and now Alexander, it seemed, though Hephaistion knew better, was taking the first steps at doing the same.

Hephaistion felt the fool. He'd never before had such an urgent desire or need to 'possess' Alexander. They'd prepared themselves for years, since childhood, for the eventuality of Alexander's marriage. Maybe it was just a reaction to the loss of his father. His grief had been deep and he had to admit he had not been himself for weeks now. His self inflicted separation from Alexander and the slow healing of his tantrum wrought wounds had kept his mind numb and unfocused; a dark recess of self pity and self indulgence in acts that he normally did not partake in. The visiting of the temple had become nearly an obsession as had his letter writing to Alexander and his now dead father. Letters which would remain unsent. Letters to himself really. Letters in an attempt to define and reconcile within his fractured heart the coming changes to his life. The parchments were stained with the blood from his damaged hands and his normally precise and meticulous script was shaky and haphazard the victim of his grief and confusion.

Hephaistion sighed, closed his eyes and breathed in the scent that was Alexander. It was sweet. A mix of sex, their sweat and Alexander's own uniquely succulent odor. The scent held such a painfully deep familiarity that it caused Hephaistion's breath to catch in his chest for a moment and his heart to race. It was the definition of an infinite intimacy, the scent of a lifetime spent together, of a shared love that was forged by bitter trials and absurdly rapacious bliss and desire. This scent, both sweet and musky with maleness, defined them; defined and framed their duality. One of lusty tenderness entwined with the brutality of warrior masculinity. It had been the later that had driven Hephaistion during the previous night's encounter, the simple brutish need to be the victor, the conqueror, the possessor of another man's life and soul. Now sucking that scent into his aching chest he fought off tears. Tears of imminent loss, tears of weary acceptance that what they had prepared for was coming to fruition in a matter of days despite his years and years of secret, fervent praying that by some act of the gods Alexander would get a heir through some means not requiring a wife and queen.

Hephaistion rolled onto his side turning carefully so as not to dislodge or awaken Alexander. He studied the sleeper's face in the growing morning light, marveled at the peacefulness he found there and allowed it to sift into his heart just a bit, calming him. He shifted his eyes back and forth mimicking the motion of Alexander's beneath the dreamer's closed lids. Trying to crawl into his mind and join him in whatever dream he was having. Hephaistion had always done this. Sometimes all night he would watch and wait as cycle after cycle of dreams tickled Alexander's sleeping mind. He'd get headaches from the act of following Alexander's eyes, squinting the next day in classes, causing Alexander to worry for him. Hephaistion had never told Alexander the cause of the headaches. It was his secret, his private bit of time with the prince and now king, he'd keep it his private bit of serenity and no one could take that from him at least.

Dreams. Alexander never had nightmares, only dreams; grand and epic in proportion when compared to the rest of the world's men. Hephaistion furrowed his brow and said a silent warding prayer to keep the dreaded nightmares from touching his beloved. It was for him to suffer such torments for his Alexander, to somehow insulate him from the ravages of nightmare terrorized sleep. As he watched Alexander's lips moved giving some unseen soldier a silent dream fueled command. Then those fine and sweet lips curled into a content smile. Hephaistion's heart was filled with a joy he'd not felt in weeks. Such a simple thing, watching one whom you love and need so desperately sleep. Such a simple thing to reap such joy in a gentle smile. Hephaistion reached out and with learned fingers traced the stubble roughened contour of Alexander's jaw and brushed his thumb across the still smiling lips. The sleeper sighed and shifted slightly but did not awaken. Hephaistion continued to stroke Alexander's face and hair as his mind wrestled with the gut wrenching fear that this might be the last time they would be afforded such intimacy before the Calvary like charge of change wrecked their lives.

Change. Hephaistion sensed an uncontrollable onrush of change and felt in his heart that he would be over run by it. Duty was making its attack on their relationship and 'his' dream and it had followed all the precepts of a perfect attack. Economy, surprise and a focused target. Nothing he could do would stop the charge of this unstoppable force. It would gut him just as Alexander's perfect charge had gutted Darius' line at Guagamela. It would play upon the weakness of the lie that the two of them had foolishly nurtured for so many years and then with a swift and decisive attack it would rip his heart from his chest and lay it at the new queen's feet. The idea that nothing in the universe could change them, that they would forever be bound had been childish nonsense and now in five days time that change would come and shatter every ideal that Hephaistion had innocently and in a the guise of denial held true. Change. It came to everything and everyone. Death. Everything died some sort of death. Men, his father, animals, relationships, armies and entire civilizations. How had they managed to fool themselves into believing that they were some untouchable love bound entity. No, change was coming just as assuredly as Alexander was coming to remove the last vestiges of Darius' power. Change. Hephaistion shuddered and again ran his thumb across Alexander's slightly parted lips. Change might deal a sorrowful death to this part of them, the physicality of their relationship, but nothing would or could kill the pure and soul nurtured love that truly bound them as one.


	6. Trust and Mistrust

Title: What Price Fury

Rating: PG for now.

Fandom: Stones movie

Summery: Not For the first time in their relationship Hephaistion is a victim of Alexander's wrathful temper. Mitigating issues play a part weakening the faithful General's defenses causing him to retaliate and havoc ensues before the two can reunite. I can't help but feel as though these two had there fair share of brawls. Egos aside…besides Hephaistion's got other things on his mind.

Genre: Anger and angst and reconciliation

Reviews: Please send advice to and thanks!

Disclaimer: Mr. Stone for this one, he brought them to life so we can torment them! Not purely movie driven I tweaked it a bit.

Thanks: To everyone who awaits updates to this tale and all who provide encouragement. Once again I thought that this chapter would lean toward a conclusion but it seems instead to have opened up the thing to more stuff…we'll just have to see where it goes. Do not despair. Leave that to me…. This is a bit of reflection for Hephaistion and me as well. It will probably be boring for you guys but since it wrote itself this way I guess Hephaistion needed to sort it out.

Chapter 6

Trust and Mistrust

Hephaistion froze. He was about to brush his thumb, once again, across Alexander's lips relishing in their firm yet tender tautness when his lover's eyes fluttered open trying to blink away the dregs of sleep that weighed his blond lashed lids down. They stared, in a magical and god wrought silence, at one another. Hephaistion couldn't move. The site of Alexander's slightly parted lips, his still sleep heavy, gentle eyes and slightly flared nostrils stirred him. Stirred him in so many ways that he was left confused and in awe of the subtle yet enduring power that the man beside him wielded over his heart and soul despite all the conflict that sullied their lives as of late. He licked his lips and held his breath and licked his lips again before he resumed, unhindered, his gentle fingertip reconnaissance of Alexander's lips and face.

Alexander shuddered when he peered into the crystal blue pools across from him. How many years and trials had they suffered through together? How much death and destruction had they wrought in the name of 'his' dream? A dream that was only in its violent infancy. A dream that Hephaistion had on so many bitter occasions admitted to not wholly believing in for this reason or that but followed and fought for because he loved his Alexander. His dreamer. The other half of his soul. His bit of love in a world so filled with despair and anguish that a soul like his could be easily tilled under and forgotten in the stomp tromping advance of a military life. They'd overcome arguments and conflict, fist fights and outright cruel and horrible treatment of one another. There'd been times when despair had threatened to fracture their union, a union they both felt was a gift of the gods themselves, into a billion shards of agonizing grief strewn bits. But always, in the end, love and absolute and blind trust had cured, slain and erased all the scars and wounds that life had dealt them. Alexander blinked and wondered if once again love would cure them. Could cure them.

He was sore. Truth be told he was in pain. Hephaistion had with held nothing in his urgent need to rule him the night before. He'd pounded, clawed, bitten and driven himself into Alexander with a frenetic need to join with him, crawl inside him, to taste him and somehow own him. It wasn't the first time violence had ruled their coupling but this time the ache was telling and deep, it tore at his heart as well as his body and mind. It spelled out to Alexander, though Hephaistion would never admit it, just how hurt, fearful and insecure Hephaistion was about the upcoming wedding, and the way he'd treated him at the meeting. Add the death of Amyntor and even a fool could see that Hephaistion was ripe and ready for an outlet for his hurt and fury. In this case Alexander understood Hephaistion's need to possess. The out right violence of it though, the biting and clawing, Hephaistion's blank face and sneer coupled with the man's verbally abusive chatter had terrified Alexander. He had always hated this violent bent of Hephaistion's. He didn't understand it and this time it had transcended all the others in its furious frenzy of lust, longing and cruelty.

Alexander didn't know exactly why or where this love driven violence had come from, but he had his ideas. Hephaistion was a master at gentling horses and training dogs… but with men he often had only the compulsion to brutalize if his demands were not immediately met.

They'd fought over this 'weakness' in Hephaistion's character so many times that to recall them would be futile. How many times had they debated the use of the whip as a tool of discipline? Alexander deplored it and Hephaistion embraced it. Although Hephaistion and his father had a loving and close relationship Alexander knew that it was not without its darker side. His own parents may have used him as a pawn but Hephaistion's father had disciplined his son with the same harshness that was used in the mines and quarries, the excuse being that he was preparing him for the hardships of soldiering. Hephaistion was already familiar with the cutting agony of the whip when he'd arrived at Meiza. At the first sight of his scared back and thighs in the gymnasium the other students had immediately singled the tall, quiet, handsome boy out as being troublesome and crude. Secretly though it was Hephaistion's scars that the other students respected him for. His back, already a map of ragged scar tissue, was a thing of conjecture and awe. When asked Hephaistion walked away saying naught, only that 'discipline is discipline and that they should take it to heart.' After a time they all hated him because Alexander loved him but they respected and feared him for his scars.

Hephaistion again licked his lips before speaking. "You stayed." It was a flat statement as much a question as an answer.

"You…you needed me?" Alexander asked. A sort of apology and a query in one.

Silence surrounded the two and the meager moonlight lit up the flecks of gold in both of their eyes. Hephaistion pulled his hand back and tucked it, childlike, under his chin. Alexander sighed and reached out to him. As he touched Hephaistion's cheek the man flinched. The touch was coarse and heavy.

"Sorry, hand's asleep. Yours though, yours felt good. How god awful long has it been, Hephaistion?"

"Last night."

Alexander sensed the taut bitterness in Hephaistion's voice. While his touch had been tender his voice betrayed his hurt. Last night. Last night, had been a travesty. One man compelling his will upon another devoid of love, devoid of caring, devoid of anything other than the basic need to punish. Need. Alexander needed Hephaistion to return to him, but he couldn't help but feel that the man had completely lost himself in his grief for his father and the argument with him.

"Your warm." Hephaistion whispered shifting closer to Alexander and twinning their legs together. It was if he was trying to burrow up under his chin.

"That's good, Phaistion. You are always so chilled you know."

" Chilled. Yes. Chilled. I hurt you again." He furrowed his brow in an aloof remembrance.

"Mhm hmhm."

"Alexander do you have any idea just how tired I am? Do you Alexander?"

Alexander reached out and stroked Hephaistion's stubble covered cheek. Then a thumb across his parted lips. Hephaistion shuddered at the touch. He wanted Alexander to make love to him, to stroke and strum and play his body like a lyre until the song burst free and swallowed him in blinding, mind numbing pleasure driving the sadness from his heart.

"Yes my love I do. I truly do. You have to believe that Hephaistion, you must."

"Last night…"

"Was just that. 'Last' night. And today, this morning is a new morning. Let us start again Hephaistion. I am sorry for my treatment of you in front of the men and for failing you when you called for me. I, and it is no excuse, was very tired too."

Hephaistion sighed, he no longer felt anger only a sort of resentment. He resented Alexander for his dreams, he resented Alexander for his duties, he resented Alexander for being able to share himself emotionally and physically with multiple partners while he seemed to care only for Alexander and no other person had ever stirred his loins with desire. Which led him to sometimes blaming Alexander for his own loneliness. Lastly he resented himself the most for being childish enough to feel the things he felt and allow those feelings to drive him to injure Alexander during an act that should be one of love and caring.

"Yes." Hephaistion replied and then kissed Alexander gently on the lips. "To new beginnings and long feared farewells."

"Oh by the gods, Hephaistion!" Alexander shouted irritably as he quickly shot up from the bed roughly dislodging Hephaistion. "This, this wedding is not a farewell and you more than know that Hephaistion!" He began to pace. "And if you don't, if you do not 'know' that by now," he spun and faced Hephaistion who was now reclining, leaning on his left elbow. "then I have no idea, absolutely no idea what to tell you or how to reassure you!"

They stared at one another. Finally Hephaistion swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood. He hadn't meant to anger Alexander. The truth was he'd intended to make love to him, and be made love to. Like they had in the long ago past. It had been so long and he needed that bond with Alexander just now. Standing up, he felt, for the first time in all of their years together, uncomfortable and foolish with his nakedness in Alexander's company. His now flagging erection didn't help him feel any better. Grimacing at the strange feeling he crossed his arms over his chest and made his way to the chamber pot. Finished he crossed to his table and poured himself a cup of unmixed wine before returning to Alexander.

"You know Alexander, you are correct as usual, its not about farewells at all." He took a large swig of wine and scrunched up his face at the taste. "No, not farewells at all. It 'all' about me. Me, selfish as that may seem to you it's all about me."

Alexander studied him, squinting in concentration his neck slightly cocked. He couldn't get a grip on this new Hephaistion. It seemed that each time he thought he had him again in his heart Hephaistion slipped away. About him? It made little sense.

Hephaistion read Alexander's thoughts. "Yes, about me. Me. Hephaistion." He thumped his chest with his thumb. "The king's kind whore, the king's lackey, the king's watch dog, the king's consort and court buffoon. About me. And me, well I am so sick and tired right now of pissing my pitiful life away scurrying around in the shadow of your great and almighty dream. Gods ,I just wish to plunge my dagger into my heart and silence the racket that our lives have become!"

His almighty dream. So it was that again as well, Alexander shook his head in dismay and poured himself a large cup of wine and offered to refill Hephaistion's. So many years and still the man was insecure and foolish enough to play that card over and over again. Alexander pitied Hephaistion in that very moment. Pitied him because of the pain he forced needlessly upon himself. Tired of rehashing old rubbish Alexander decided to get to the point.

"Hephaistion, I'm going to ask something of you and I hope that you will say yes to me. It is important to me." Alexander stepped up to Hephaistion and held his blue eyes in a fierce glare.

"When have I ever denied you anything Alexander?"

"Never, but this…this is different." He studied Hephaistion's placid, neutral features. "We have, since we were boys, talked about my duty to provide an heir when I became king. You had always understood and supported me, promised me your love. You know I am duty bound to this Hephaistion. By the gods man how many times have we sat and drank ourselves silly trying to decide what color eyes she should have, or big breasts or small, tall or short, blond or dark hair, freckles or none…If you disapprove of her I am sorry. I gave you no warning and for that breach in our trust I was wrong. But this wedding 'will' happen the day after tomorrow. Hephaistion, be my best man, stand with me in this. Do me the honor…"

"That honor belongs to Parminion!" He turned away frustrated with Alexander's blind devotion to him. "It's the rule, the custom. Must you rewrite and redo everything that you touch?"

"Yes, I am breaking new ground here Hephaistion and I want 'you' at my side when I join Macedon to Persia. You Hephaistion 'my' man not my father's."

"Your man!" Hephaistion took a mouthful of wine and spit it out on Alexander's feet. "Your man! Your boy you mean! Your fine, handsome Athenian born and Macedonian re-educated boy! Your toy, your slave, your pretty plaything. Are you mad Alexander!" He was screaming now, his anger so long bottled up roiled over and Alexander wavered in the crush of it.

"You…have…'never' been my 'boy'! Never! So do not sing that sad song for me Hephaistion. What in gods name is wrong with you! Where is 'my' Hephaistion?" Alexander stepped back as Hephaistion began to laugh uproariously. He watched stunned as the empty cup slipped from his fingers and Hephaistion began to clap his hands.

"If I was not already standing Alexander, I would jump to my feet and give you a standing ovation! No! no such honor is needed for me. I will attend, and I will suffer the mocking remarks of your friends just as I suffered Cleitus' punch and I will sleep alone while you soil the wedding sheets performing your 'duty' but no, do not force this upon me it will tear my heart to pieces. Knowing Alexander is one thing. Knowing for no matter how long that you will marry and consummate that union is one thing but seeing it, happen threatens to rip my soul apart. How will I rest Alexander knowing that you are bedding a woman in my place, gods that eunuch is bad enough! I want to retch each time I see him." He turned and started away.

Alexander had had enough, he threw his cup and reached out grabbing Hephaistion by both shoulders and spun him around. Before Hephaistion could react Alexander dragged him into a desperate embrace, pulling Hephaistion's head into the crook of his neck. The shocked man tried to struggle free but Alexander held him firmly in his strong arms.

"Listen to me, will you just 'listen' to me." He pleaded in a coarse whisper into Hephaistion's ear. "I love you and only you and you know this to be the truth! You know this my Hephaistion and you accept it just as I accept that you love me! No be still, just be still." He squeezed with all his strength keeping Hephaistion pinned against his broad and heaving chest. "I am sorry for the meeting, I am sorry for taking you from your estates and your father, I am sorry for loving you too much and so fiercely that you've closed your heart to any other, I am sorry for all the pain and loneliness I have caused you…ah by the gods Hephaistion please don't, please do not cry. Stand with me, I 'need' you at my side not Parminion. Please."

"Alexander, I cannot give you to her, please do not ask me to do this. I…"

"You can and you will." He pushed Hephaistion's head up and stared into the damp blue eyes. "You can. You will, for me, your Achilles, please."

"Fine then Alexander, if it is your wish." Hephaistion finally said his resolve gone and his heart fractured. The wedding would occur regardless, fighting it would do no good, he'd stand by Alexander and give him to his barbarian queen adding yet another obstacle to the road that led to his lover's bed. "Just do not ask me for assistance in the consummation of your union I am afraid I'd be of little help there."

Alexander smiled a bit relieved that Hephaistion had agreed and that he'd tried to make light of it.

"I'm certain that you'd be helpful Phaistion, remember that Illyrian girl, the one with the pitch black hair? You handled her nicely at that banquet!"

Hephaistion grimaced at the memory, they were fifteen and had attended one of Philip's many banquets. An Illyrian tart had taken a strong liking to Hephaistion and though he tried he could not rid himself of her. In the end she'd had her way with the boy much to Hephaistion's disgust and dismay.

"Gods no Alexander she raped me the wild bitch did. That was rape plain and simple. I had nothing to do with it. You 'know' that!"

"No, not much, but you were certainly as hard as a cornel spear shaft and you certainly came with great gusto; and a rather high pitched shriek if I recall. Remind me to ask Cleitus, I'm sure he remembers."

"Alexander!"

"Ah, my shy and loyal Hephaistion. I have to go I'm late. I'm sorry."

"You always are."

"You sound like a henny pen wife Hephaistion!" He said smiling then stepped in closing the space between them and again embracing Hephaistion. "I love you. I need you. I may not get to see you before the ceremony, they have me doing a thousand things. Just remember my words alright? I love you, I need you." He stepped back and they kissed deeply savoring in each others flavor. Alexander finally pulled away. "I have to dress and go…"

"Go then, just leave me with this." He looked down pathetically at the cause of his concern.

They both laughed for the first time what seemed to Alexander like ages and as Alexander dressed, Hephaistion crawled back into his bed. He never felt Alexander kiss his forehead before leaving he was already deeply asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: What Price Fury

Rating: PG for now.

Fandom: Stones movie

Summery: Not For the first time in their relationship Hephaistion is a victim of Alexander's wrathful temper. Mitigating issues play a part weakening the faithful General's defenses causing him to retaliate and havoc ensues before the two can reunite. I can't help but feel as though these two had there fair share of brawls. Egos aside…besides Hephaistion's got other things on his mind.

Genre: Anger and angst and reconciliation

Reviews: Please send advice to and thanks!

Disclaimer: Mr. Stone for this one, he brought them to life so we can torment them! Not purely movie driven I tweaked it a bit.

Thanks: To everyone who awaits updates to this tale and all who provide encouragement. Once again I thought that this chapter would lean toward a conclusion but it seems instead to have opened up the thing to more stuff…we'll just have to see where it goes. Do not despair. Leave that to me…. This is a bit of reflection for Hephaistion and me as well. It will probably be boring for you guys but since it wrote itself this way I guess Hephaistion needed to sort it out.

7

Confession and Retribution

Alexander had been correct. Hephaistion saw nothing of him before the day of the wedding. To keep his mind off the coming ceremony Hephaistion went hunting and tried to keep himself as far from the other companions as possible. The last thing he desired was to be harassed by them about being again cast aside for foreigner, a spoil of war. He knew too that once Alexander announced his decision to take him as his best man the group would fall upon him like hungry wolves. The short hunt and time in the sunshine and fresh air buoyed his spirits slightly. Just getting out with his horse and dogs, alone and far from bustling cheer of the camp put his mind at ease a bit. Hephaistion returned late, after dark on the eve of the wedding. He handed his horse off to his groom and headed discreetly back to his rooms. Milos was anxiously awaiting him and was ecstatic to see him.

"By the gods my lord you have returned to me!" He squealed and threw himself into Hephaistion's arms. "Leo said you would but Hephaistion I was not so certain!"

Hephaistion pushed the crying boy away a bit and grasped his shoulders. Stunned by the greeting he stared into Milos' brown eyes. "Returned! You thought that I might not?"

"Yes, Hephaistion. I thought that you might just ride away from us. Seek a new life. Away from…away from…I apologize for my forward thinking lord. It's just that with all that has happened. I would not have blamed you Hephaistion."

He released the boy and walked to his travel chest, where he set down his gear. Not return. What a strange idea he thought to himself. While he'd certainly considered driving his dagger into his own heart he never considered just riding away. To ride away, what an alien and frightening thought. Completely implausible as well. Nothing could drive him from Alexander, nothing. Yet Milos had worried about him doing just that. Milos a mere squire. Hephaistion couldn't help but wonder if Alexander had thought of it and if he had just how had he responded to his concern?

He was dragged from his thoughts by Milos' voice. "Hephaistion, they brought your clothes today, your clothes for the ceremony. I hung them there on the rack." He pointed to the rack and the deep burgundy Persian outfit hanging on it. "Also, Alexander asked to be notified of you r return. Shall I go and tell him you have arrived?"

"No, Milos. He knows of my whereabouts I am certain. If you don't mind though, I realize I seldom ask it of you, would you prepare me a bath?"

After his bath Hephaistion dismissed Milos, although he doubted the boy would go far, and stretched out on his couch with a cup of wine. While he'd ridden out under the pretense of hunting the fact was that he'd not hunted at all. He simply spent his days walking and relaxing and his nights sleeping under the stars. He'd written a long letter to Alexander with the intention of giving it to him that night but having reread it he decided against the plan. Antsy and not able to sleep Hephaistion draped a heavy robe around his shoulders, and with a symbol of his unreeling love and loyalty wrapped in a bit of softened fawn hide, went in search of Alexander.

As Hephaistion approached Alexander's door the two guards on duty stepped aside. They knew that the young general had unlimited access to the king. After nodding at the two young men Hephaistion quietly slipped into the room. He was still undecided as to whether or not he would wake Alexander and present his token of love if his friend was already sleeping. With practiced ease he navigated his way down the steep stair way into the inner sleeping chamber. Three or four small candles twinkled a dim illumination across the space. They cast and unearthly amber glow that lent the room a muted and stifled aura. Shuddering at the flickering shadows tossed about the ancient timber walls he continued forward. He had no love for this particular set of rooms, they were dim and suffocating, cave like nearly tomblike if he really considered them. Hephaistion preferred open space, a window no matter how small and a view of the sky. The size of his room mattered not, only that he could see the sky. Alexander had told him on many occasions, as Hephaistion lay in his arms listening to thrum of the kings heart that the reason his eyes were so blue was because, by staring into the great vastness of the sky for so long and so intently he'd managed to actually drain the brilliant azure from the heavens themselves and make that color uniquely his. There was in fact only a singular aspect of the tomblike room that Hephaistion thought worthy of notice. It was virtually impregnable. When Alexander was safe Hephaistion was happy, so he'd pushed aside his dislike of the place and joined Alexander there whenever he was beckoned to.

Hephaistion rounded the corner that led into the sleeping area itself; what he witnessed halted his movement. On the huge bed Alexander was roughly tumbling Bagoas with no amount of love or care. He sighed at the sight thinking to himself, 'When will I ever learn my place.' As he watched, Alexander arched his back and with a lion's groan came. He then rolled off of the eunuch and onto his back; legs and arms splayed wide as the molasses like fatigue of orgasm drained his body. 'Well I guess that's something,' Hephaistion thought, 'at least he doesn't simply just roll away from me.' The childish pettiness of the remark rankled Hephaistion. Was he indeed so inferior that he would allow himself to grasp hold of such a simple pleasure as relishing the embrace of the man he loved after coupling and turn it instead into a weapon armed with bitter resentment?

Realizing that with the presence of Bagoas his visit was in vain he turned to leave, but the sound of Alexander's voice stilled him, he stepped deeper into the shadow and listened.

"Ah, Bagoas. By the gods, I should be with him tonight!" Alexander sighed and draped his left arm across his forehead. "I cannot though, if I did I wouldn't be able to do this god forsaken thing tomorrow. The feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of his flesh on my tongue, the very sight of him. Then, Bagoas, to see sorrow cloud the beauty of his eyes like storm clouds blotting out the skies brilliant blueness; because of the knowledge of what I will do to him tomorrow. No to witness that would shatter my resolve just as I shattered the walls of Tyre.

Bagoas said nothing. The boy left the bed, donned a robe and scurried off to retrieve moist, warm towels to cleanse his king. He went about the task of ridding Alexander of the evidence of his weakness with a determined purposefulness and when finished Alexander rose and sat cross legged on the expansive bed. Bagoas, familiar with his lord's needs, poured a cup of wine and placed it in Alexander's trembling hands. Alexander sipped from the cup and sighed again. His hair was mussed but he pushed Bagoas' hand's brusquely away when the eunuch tried to brush it. The boy placed the ivory brush on the bed side table a sat down cross legged at Alexander's feet alert and ready to listen.

"We have been so at odds with one another these last many weeks. The bitter dregs of duty and death and misunderstanding. I fear that he is ready to bolt from me, like a colt skittish and anxious, wanting to take the apple from my hand yet…Do you realize Bagoas the depth of my relief as I watched him ride back into the camp this evening. I cried Bagoas, I cried."

A sap filled log popped in the brazier and all three men startled. Hephaistion stifled his hiss at the unexpected sound and Bagoas and Alexander cast sideways glances at each other as if to say 'You did not see me flinch.' Like a cat that's tripped over its own feet or fallen and landed on its belly and not its paws. To hide his tiny fright Alexander handed his cup to Bagoas in request of a refill. Once the boy had taken the gold container Alexander stood, wrapped himself in a soft yet heavy fur robe and began to pace.

"Have you ever loved someone or something Bagoas? Understand me boy? Loved in such a way that the fear or the threat of losing it or them crushes your heart like one would crush over- ripe grapes, and it steals the very air from your lungs like the fires fueled in the vile and wicked furnace wrought by naphtha? Have you boy?"

He took the cup from Bagoas' hand and watched as the eunuch straightened and freshened the tussled bed covers, rearranging the many pillows the way that Alexander liked them. He even took the time to set some silky pillows the way Hephaistion liked them as well. The general might not like him but Bagoas had always made sure to note what the young general liked.

"That is Hephaistion and I. We scald one another and blister each others souls with this love, a love that is indescribable to mere mortals such as yourself." At that Bagoas paused in his pillow shuffling and studied his king's countenance. "But lately, lately we feud and fight and crush each other out of anger and reprisal and misunderstanding! God forsaken duty that rends my soul in two and uses the bits and shards of it to erect a bitter siege wall between us."

Bagoas, now finished with the bed, took the cup again from Alexander and refilled it. The king had once again sat down on the edge of the bed, hunkered down inside his heavy robe.

"I wish, I wish that I could…it's like this robe Bagoas. This robe of bear skin. Just being able to wrap myself in it will not make of me a great bear. Beneath its weight I am still just a man. The same is true for kingship boy, do not let my foolishness mislead you. Though I cloak myself in its husk, the empty shell of being king, it is not truly what I am. Yet by Zeus, though I try, I have yet to find a way to peel this skin off! To separate it from my own flesh! I fear no man, Bagoas! But I am terrified to peel away that layer that makes me great. I fear being left naked and flayed alive, stripped of my glory, just waiting for the sun to bleach my bones and the winds to bury me beneath the shifting sands. Forgotten." He stood, walked a few paces and sat down heavily again. "Why do I fear it Bagoas, being just a man? Being just Alexander lover of Hephaistion. Alexander beloved of Hephaistion. Afraid of being just…'an ordinary man'? You know that he would do it Bagoas. He would, my Hephaistion, skin himself alive and give me his skin if it could free me of this yoke that fate has set upon my shoulders, if only it would irrevocably weave us into a single soul. Have you any clue boy how much I love him? Do you dear Bagoas? But we cannot live in another's skin can we?"

They sat in silence for a time. Hephaistion was certain that the pounding of his heart would be heard in the complete silence of the tomblike space. He wanted to flee, he wanted to rush to Alexander, he wanted to scream out his contempt for being set aside on this night of all nights yet…He ground his fists into his eye sockets to halt the tears that sought release. He chewed a hole in his lip to stifle his cries of love and need and desire. He cursed his foolish weakness and selfishness. His great chest heaved as his lungs tried to suck in enough air to ease the crushing weight that threatened to flatten his chest and squeeze his heart like a ripe orange. As he was about to drop to his knees Bagoas' voice brought him back to reason.

"My King, these are good and true words that you speak, but they are filling into the wrong ears." The boy looked down and studied the floor abashed at having spoken so plainly. He began tracing the grain of the aged and lacquer like shiny timbers with his long, lithe finger tips to conceal his fright. Hephaistion wondered if the boy traced Alexander's flesh in a similar way. He wondered too what secrets the grain of the footstep smoothed and shiny floor timbers could tell, and what secrets he might rend from the Persian eunuch's nimble fingers if he ever had the chance to toy a bit with Alexander's dark haired Persian pet. Yes, the little kohl eyed beauty would tell him everything as he wrenched, one at a time, his manicured nails from his long, nimble, erotic fingertips. His loins grew warm and hard at the thought of such fun and despite himself Hephaistion resisted forcing the feeling aside. More and more it seemed it was violence that sent him spiraling into that vast chasm called desire, that culminated in white and blinding ecstasy. So be it. If love and gentleness returned him naught but disregard, disdain, betrayal and loneliness then he'd seek his solace elsewhere. His eyes, that moments ago visualized Alexander loving him, were now clouded with visions of Bagoas tracing the beautiful king's scars with those tantalizing fingertips and of his own hands slowly disassembling the eunuch's slithery body.

Again Bagoas broke the silence. "My lord, Four days ago, when he was drunk, your Hephaistion, he pulled me into an alcove by my arm, just here." He pointed to his left bicep. "He took me by the throat and told me of all the things he would love to do to me should I continue to warm your bed lord. Your Hephaistion is a cruel and violent man lord, why do you love him so? It confuses me lord. I am sorry."

Alexander knew well Hephaistion's predilection for cruelty when hurt or angry and it was not difficult for him to imagine the threats he'd showered upon Bagoas. The gods knew that he'd suffered them on occasion himself.

He reached out and touched the eunuch's cheek and then the offended

bicep. The bruises were still visible, greenish purple and framed by the red scabs where Hephaistion's fingernails had bitten into the boys flesh.

"I apologize for this my kind friend. I will make certain that it will not happen again."

In the darkness of his shadow Hephaistion shuddered. 'See to it then Alexander but I will always hate the boy.'

Alexander sighed and ran his fingers through his tangled blond hair. "Bagoas it is, he is like a puppy. You can beat it to train it and the puppy will become a fine, smart and gentle pet. But Bagoas mark my words well boy. The dog that the pup grows into…it will 'never' forget the bite of the whip. Never. And if pushed and hurt it will respond with an unparalleled cruelty and viciousness just as it remembers from its youth. Remember this Bagoas. He is like that my Hephaistion. He was raised under the whistle and crack of the whip and when he is hurting in his heart or body he acts just like that dog. It is not his true nature my friend, he is a gentle and loving soul. Again just as this bearskin is not me neither is the beaten dog Hephaistion."

"Yes my lord, I hear your words. Remember my King please, the words you spoke tonight should fill Hephaistion's ears. Fill them and drown out the crack and whistle of the whip with joy and love."

Alexander nodded and handed his cup to Bagoas . "I think I will try to sleep now, you should do the same. Tomorrow…well tomorrow will be busy. Goodnight, Bagoas. I will sleep…alone tonight."

Hephaistion retraced his steps and exited the room. A warning glare at the two guards and instructions that Alexander was not to know of his visit was enough to seal their lips. The tales of Hephaistion's punishments for failure to obey his orders were fresh in their young minds. Just over two months ago he'd filled the ears of a squire with hot pitch for spying and then sealed his eyes shut with it. While they may have wondered at their king's love for the tall handsome, copper haired man they dared not disobey him.

Hephaistion made his way back to his room through the dark wooden corridors. Torches cast uncanny shadows and the hushed voices, groans and laughter that sifted out from under the heavy doors prickled Hephaistion's skin despite the warmth of his Ermine robe. The eunuch's words nagged at his mind and he wanted to hurt something or at best be hurt. Alexander had spoken his heart to a nobody, had said all the things that 'he' needed to hear to a Persian slut, a trivial bit of booty reaped from the rape of Darius' empire. Loud and raucous laughter followed by a howl of pleasure emitted from beneath the door he was passing and out of sheer frustration he stopped and pounded on the thick, carved, age worn wood with both fists. It hurt. It was good. His hands were still sensitive after the beating he'd subjected them too in his room. Pleased by the pain he pounded again and again. As he finally turned to walk away the door swung open. Hephaistion turned and grinned at his good luck. Cleitus.

The naked man stepped out into the hall and after closing the door behind himself stared at Hephaistion incredulously. Caught up in the moment the younger general began laughing. Cleitus stood, confused, and waited for the laughing to abate.

"Have I ever told you, good Cleitus, that for a great warrior you have a pathetic excuse for a prick." Hephaistion said snickering. His blue eyes locked on Cleitus' bleary black ones. "By the gods what did you do to manage to get that bitch to squeal so heartily?" He paused and furrowed his brow in mock concentration. "No wait," he held up a finger to lips shushing the black haired general. "It was you! That was you squealing! By the gods Cleitus I'd a never guessed it but…well…I must admit when I was a boy you did seem a bit, well," he held his hands a few inches apart then spread them wider, " bigger. Been mingling with the eunuchs have you? What'd she use a sword hilt? That was quite a yelp!"

Cleitus was frozen in place. He was trying to process Hephaistion's words through a haze of wine and the only thing that seemed to make any sense was small prick, sword hilt and squealing, had he squealed? He narrowed his already narrow eyes and stared at Hephaistion. The man must be suicidal he thought. That or the king was looking for a reason to dispatch one or the other of them.

Hephaistion walked toward him very steadily and obviously not drunk. The smile had left his face and Cleitus was beginning to wish that he'd reacted sooner to the smaller man's threat. He knew he was too slow and too late when Hephaistion's right hand shot out and clutched his cock and balls in a vice like grip. They stood face to face. Hephaistion wrinkled his nose at the wine heavy stench of Cleitus' wine sodden breath but it didn't compare to the smell of fresh blood and it was far less exciting.

"Lost my girl friend have I?" Hephaistion asked his tongue slipping out and licking the still raw abrasion on his lips where Cleitus had punched him the other night. He tightened his grip on Cleitus' testicles. "It was, I admit, a fine punch that you threw." Then leaning in close to the older generals face he smiled before biting into Cleitus' lip. "Turn around's fair play, no, General Cleitus?"

Cleitus did not flinch, not just yet. The boy's abuse he considered trivial. Even after so many miles together, Hephaistion and his 'kind' the king included were mere boys. Anything Hephaistion could do to him was minimal. Hephaistion would no sooner hurt him then…

"By the gods boy! Stop! Arghhhh! You'll tear it offa me lad damn you!" Cleitus screamed as he was being crushed in Hephaistion's fist. "It was only a punch by the gods release me by Zeus or I'll…"

Hephaistion laughed and bit into Cleitus' right ear lobe tearing into the soft flesh, ripping it from the big man's head. He stepped back, eyes wide and manic, fueled by the taste of blood. Then he spat the severed lobe in Cleitus' face before licking the crimson drops from his bruised lips. " Or you will what? You will do nothing slow and drunken Cleitus. You are mine. Yes, one punch…eeh one bite and one missing ear lobe. Friends no? Do we understand one another now good Cleitus? Do we?"

Hephaistion turned and began to walk to his rooms. Cleitus screamed after him but to no avail. The young general was deaf and mute. He was losing everything in the morning and nothing really mattered any longer. The gods had defeated him, life had defeated him and tomorrow he would, with a smile, give Alexander over to a woman. He reached his rooms but not before overhearing a very loud argument between Ptolemy, Perdikas, Cassander the others and Philotas about Alexander's choice of him as best man of sorts. Philotas, found Alexander's choice as an insult punishable by death. He thought that his father should have the honor and Ptolemy was trying to calm him. The screaming eeked through the door and after listening for a few moments the saddened general moved on. By the gods he tried to tell himself he didn't need them anyway.

"Milos?" Hephaistion whispered as he entered his room. "Mi… are you here?"

The boy roused himself and moved quickly to Hephaistion's side. He held his master tightly. Trying to ease the trembling that quaked and rumbled through the tall man's body.

"My lord, oh my lord." He uttered as he led Hephaistion to his bed. The furs had been turned back in anticipation of his arrival. "You are wounded lord." Milos dabbed at Hephaistion's lips with his soft sleeve.

"No. It is all good Milos come, come…" He fell lazily back onto the bed drawing the confused squire with him. "Milos? I am…I am sad and alone. Make me happy lad. I have never hurt you. Never asked this of you but… Say no and you are free."

"Your tears burn holes in my heart my lord. Let me sooth you."

"Aye, yes boy. Love me well and drown me in wine. Make me numb before the morrow with your love and drink, make me numb before the wedding…I'll not do it Milos! I'll not stand and hold the bridal sheet! I will die before that night passes and before that morning! Give me more wine. Fuck me; then give me more wine boy! Make me forget Alexander, my sweet Milos."


	8. Chapter 8

Title: What Price Fury

Rating: PG for now.

Fandom: Stones movie

Summery: Not For the first time in their relationship Hephaistion is a victim of Alexander's wrathful temper. Mitigating issues play a part weakening the faithful General's defenses causing him to retaliate and havoc ensues before the two can reunite. I can't help but feel as though these two had there fair share of brawls. Egos aside…besides Hephaistion's got other things on his mind.

Genre: Anger and angst and reconciliation

Reviews: Please send advice to and thanks!

Disclaimer: Mr. Stone for this one, he brought them to life so we can torment them! Not purely movie driven I tweaked it a bit.

Thanks: To everyone who awaits updates to this tale and all who provide encouragement. Once again I thought that this chapter would lean toward a conclusion but it seems instead to have opened up the thing to more stuff…we'll just have to see where it goes. Do not despair. Leave that to me…. This is a slow chapter I am afraid. A good deal of interaction between different folks. Maybe a bit of foreshadowing…It is setting up for the wedding and ring scenes that will be coming along.

Chapter 8

Breakfast Blessings

Hephaistion passed a restless night, tossing, turning and moaning in his wine induced sleep. Just as the distraught general had requested, Milos had kept the man's cup filled, only switching to mixed wine when he was certain that Hephaistion was too drunk to notice. The young page sat on the edge of the bed dabbing gently at Hephaiastion's sweaty forehead, chest and neck with a cool cloth. Despite his ministrations Hephaistion continued to toss about, struggling against whatever torment lurked in his sleeping mind.

Milos stared down at the bronze haired man and tried to hold in his tears. He hated to see his master suffer. Most considered Hephaistion a vain, arrogant and violent taskmaster, only focused on rising to great power by using Alexander, by lording the king's sexual weakness' over him.

Milos knew that his master could be vicious, he knew that the handsome general had no qualms about swimming in the gore of anyone who threatened or came between him and Alexander, or between Alexander and the man's dreams, but he also knew that Hephaistion did in fact love the Alexander, and anyone who questioned that love was a fool. Without really giving a conscious thought to his action Milos began to softly sing a lullaby to the fretful sleeper. It was one that his mother had sung to him when he was a boy. As he sang he brushed Hephaistion's soft hair back from his damp brow and recalled the events of earlier that night.

Hephaistion had finally taken the page into his bed and the man had not been entirely gentle with him. Milos had been forced to stifle his fear by biting into his lip. The page was disappointed. He'd always imagined Hephaistion taking him in an act of love, but there was no hint of love in the sad man's actions. Desperation, Milos thought but no love. A desperation born from the loins of despair, loneliness and unrequited desire. Milos knew both his king and Hephaistion well and his master's grief and depression was not lost to the young man. Hephaistion had been nearly feral in his ministrations on the younger man, aloof and, acting perfunctorily. There was no love involved in the union. Milos felt an emptiness when the act was over; none of the intimacy that he savored when he bedded Leo, his lover, was present. He shuddered and then leapt from the bed as Hephaistion sat bolt upright with a horrible, shrill scream.

"No, no, no! My king! I beg of you not 'this' no! Alexander! Alexander! Help me! Alexander please!" The scream was animal like and full of malignant terror. Hephaistion threw his arms up as if to ward off an attack. His eyes were wide, and unseeing, glazed with wine and unimaginable fear as he then clutched himself in a fierce embrace; his finger nails biting viciously into the skin of his biceps drawing blood on the previously scared skin, moaning softly now he began to gently rock back and forth. Milos had seen this before and reaching out began to gently rub soothing circles on Hephaistion's back and shoulders. The loving action typically calmed the stricken man and he would lie down and go back to sleep as if nothing had occurred. Milos thanked the gods because Hephaistion never seemed to recall the terrible nightmares. The horror of them seemed to be wisked away by the rising sun and the dawn of a new and fresh day. Finally Hephaistion layed back down on his left side, curled his long frame into a tight ball and after a long sigh slipped back into a fidgety sleep.

Milos now allowed his tears to fall. Most men were ashamed of such weakness but in his many years of service to Hephaistion he had learned that there was nothing to fear from the display, no reason to restrain ones love and emotions. Hephaistion had shown him that his love for Leo was allowable. He had always encouraged the two young men to allow their hearts to rule their minds. Showed them that to allow such love to be stolen away and raped by prejudice was a fool's affair and that they would both forever regret not following their hearts. Milos and Leo looked to Alexander and Hephaistion just as their older mentors looked to Achilles and Patroclus for the inspiration that kept their love sublime. So he cried, and out of ideas as to how he could settle Hephaistion he did what he would do if his own lover, Leo, was so troubled. He crawled onto the bed and wrapped his smaller frame around the man-ball that was Hephaistion. Then leaning in placing his lips close to the troubled sleepers ear, he pushed back a strand of hair and once again began to sing the calming lullaby, his warm breath tickling Hephaistion's neck and brushing softly against the sleepers fine hair. Milos was releived when after only two stanzas he felt the big man sigh and expell a great breath as if forcing his despair from his chest before settling back heavily against the page and relaxing into a deep sleep. His breathing now slow and even.

Milos woke with start when he heard a knock on the door. He uncurled himself from Hephaistion and made his way to the entry and opened it a crack. Ptolemy stood there, dressed and ready for the day's ceremonies, his face a mask of concern.

"How is he Milos? Did he rest at all?" The man, one the few that Hephaistion called friend, asked quietly.

"Yes, a little Sir. Fretfully though and I am afraid he drank too much wine I tried to…"

He stopped talking when Ptolemy reached out and touched the bite mark on Milos' neck. "He did that?"

Milos lowered his eyes. He'd forgotten the wound, a reminder of Hephaistion's desperation, or he would have concealed the nasty, purple and black mark. "It…it is nothing. Please, he…was so…General Ptolemy, tell no-one. It was my great pleasure to be here for him, if the price I paid for that honor is a bit of pain then so be it. I am bred to tolerate much more grievous wounds than this, am I not sir?"

Ptolemy looked around the page's shoulder and studied the sleeper. "Yes boy, I suppose that you are. Step lively now; he has to be at Alexander's side for the breakfast it's tradition. His escort will arrive shortly."

Milos bowed slightly and stepped back into the room closing the heavy timber door quietly behind him. He called for bath water and tea. Once the bath was filled and the tea mixed with Alexander's special herbs that would settle Hephaistion's wine soured stomach and dull the ache in his head he made his way to the bed and called out softly to the sleeping man. Hephaistion stirred and groaned as he rolled onto his back, uncoiling his long frame with a hiss that gave away just how stiff he become during his exhausted sleep.

"What is it, Milos. It's very early yet; no?" He mumbled without opening his eyes.

"You must rise and bathe Hephaistion. You are due at the…the wedding breakfast."

"Yes, that's today isn't it? Replete with all the protocol and pomp that our good king could muster. Tell them that I have run off would you Mi? Tell them that you awoke and the proud, beautiful, arrogant, king's whore and fool had somehow managed to crawl into his own overly widened, widened by royalty now, note that Milos, bunghole and has disappeared for good."

Milos watched as Hephaistion sat up wearily and rubbed a battle calloused hand across his face. "Hephaistion," he began quietly, "I have made you tea. The…Alex…ander's special tea. It will help with the wine's fury. Please sip it in your bath." The page had not wanted to utter the king's name fearing that mention of it would deepen his master's despair.

"Hmm. Thank you, Mi." He stood and stumbled to the bathing area tea in hand.

Hephaistion sipped the tea then set the cup down on a low table near the tub and stood over the chamber pot. He groaned as he relieved himself, and stretched his back and neck upward wincing at the cracking that broke though the morning silence. If nothing else at least pissing felt good. As he finished and turned toward the tub he thought to himself wryly, 'Yes I have pissed it all away Alexander haven't I? Pissed away my miserable life on a love driven, irreconcilable quest. Irreconcilable with 'your' grand plan. Pissed it away only to have it tossed out on the dung heap and mixed with the stinking shit of a thousand other unknown men.' He sat in the warm water then submerged himself completely, he resurfaced when his lungs cried out for air and shook the water from his hair. He was normally fastidious but today he'd let the servants tend to the mess.

After a short time Hephaistion stalked back into sleeping chamber naked and dripping carelessly on the timber floor. The scented water ran in rivulets down his sun browned torso. Glinting and twinkling in the morning light as it dripped like luscious pearls along the fine hairs that accented his broad, muscular chest and concealed his manhood. Slipping over the dual scars that marred his breast, reminders of Alexander's foolish anger. Milos held in the gasp that threatened to escape his lips at the site of the handsome general. He could not hide his desire from his widened, tawny colored eyes though. Hephaistion ruffled the page's black curls and smiled at his young man's embarrassment.

"Ah, my sweet Milos, still after all these years, you swoon at the sight of me."

Not one to be put off easily Milos countered, "Yes, and you my lord are sounding too much like Alexander with your self praise and your vanity." He smiled at the naked man before him and reached out with his hand to offer the chosen pants to him.

Hephaistion grinned at the reproach and took the proffered item. "Yes, maybe and it seems that our dear king has sent me a rather handome bit of Persian attire to wear when I give him away. Does this burgundy color suit me Milos? Does it bring out the blueness of my eyes?" He asked sarcastically as he donned the silky pants and spun around to show them off. Milos continued to play along, he was glad that Hephaistion's mood had lightened a bit even though he was certain that the was simply still a little drunk from his overindulgence the night before.

"My apologies good lord." He bowed low and continued after rising, "but I think that Alexander's effeminate, tiny pricked Persian pet would be a far better judge of native attire then I am. Being only the lowly son of a mere lesser Macedonian noble that I am, I fear I have not been schooled in such vagaries as fashion. Shall I fetch the whip my master? You may punish my ignorance accordingly." He finished and looked at Hephaistion with such lecherous desire that the general burst out laughing despite the flush of heat that surged through him. He could ravage the boy again. He wanted to, but he would not allow spite to cloud his judgement. Yes, let Alexander smell another's scent on him…only his friendship with Leo kept him from pouncing on the young Milos. Once was enough, may the gods damn him if was to ever come between the two young lovers. He laughed again to break the spell and snatched the shirt from Milos' hand.

"You are a very naughty boy Milos, Leo should be quite proud of you."

"Thank you my lord, I try my best. Now please, hurry they will be here for you any time now and your hair is still a mess, and you have to shave."

"My hair is fine and damn the shaving. Get me that gold colored band and that will take care of it, I've no intention of playing the part of Alexander's scorned mistress today. A bit of kohl and a shake of my head and I'm ready. Oh and a good sized cup of strong wine if you would. No Milos do not scold me." He held up his hand to quiet the concerned page. "What would a wedding breakfast be if one was…well let's just say a bit too sober. Besides all the best blessings are babbled from wine loosened lips."

Milos returned the requested items just as Hephaistion finished putting on the kohl. The young man gapped at the sight of his master.

"What?" He took the cup, gulped down half of the wine, set it aside and after donning the gold band again said "Milos, what is it lad?"

"The kohl, Hephaistion, it's a bit heavy…no? You look as if you are in mourning not…"

"Perhaps I am. By the way 'who' is coming for me, Milos?"

The page cringed. He had held off telling Hephaistion about the escort for as long as possible trying to give them time to arrive. He knew that the man would resent being escorted to the ceremony. "A special escort is assigned to take all the wedding party participants to the ceremony, Hephaistion. It is an honor that the king has added to the festivities."

" Honor! What kind of fool does he take me for, escort! The idiot is afraid that I won't show up!"

"No it's for all…"

"Enough, Milos! It's for me this damned escort, cloaked behind the excuse of honoring the entire wedding party. Bastard! If I…" He was cut off by a loud knock on the door. "By all the gods that man is as insufferable as a farting pig!" He picked up his cup and downed the remaining wine in one long swig. "Well Mi I hope that you and Leo enjoy the festivities, you are dismissed for the next few days. I will seek you out then. Enjoy." He grasped the page by the shoulders and embraced him tightly. Then speaking in a hushed , warm voice he said "Thank you, Milos. Thank you for everything. I am deeply sorry to have hurt you. You are a fine friend." He kissed the top of the young man's head and strode purposefully from the room.

Hephaistion was led to the dinning hall flanked by two of Alexander's personal guard. The dining hall was elaborately decorated with both Persian and Macedonian dressings. The heavy timber wrought walls were draped with tapestries depicting both Persian and Greek customs. The vases were full of native flowers and the table set with a huge variety of multicultural food. Alexander sat at the head of the huge table talking to those around him. Hephaistion was escorted in and seated on Alexander's right; across the wide table from him sat the bride's father Oxyartes. Before he was able to sit down Alexander stood and they clasped their forearms together, the king managed a weak smile that went unreciprocated. The slight in Hephaistion's manners was not missed by the Persian Baron. The seating alternated. On Hephaistion's side it began with him and then a Persian followed by Cleitus, and on Oxyartes' the Persian followed by Parminion and then a Persian and so on.

Alexander cast side long glances at Hephaistion trying to gauge the man's demeanor. Wine was being served, watered wine but none the less wine. Alexander noted that Hephaistion had already consumed two cups of the stuff and he was fairly certain that the man was already bit drunk when he'd arrived. He trusted Hephaistion not to make a scene but the wicked looks the young general was casting toward Cleitus caused him some concern. Hephaistion had suffered a split lip courtesy of Cleitus and Cleitus was missing an ear lobe. If the rumors were indeed true the lobe had been torn from Black Ceitus' head by Hephaistion. Philotas too was throwing disparaging looks Hephaistion's way, and Cassander was in league with them. Alexander sighed and waved off a server it was going to be a long day; even longer, he knew, for Hephaistion, who would spend it alone for the most part with no comforting circle of friends to support him. A ringing bell dragged him from his reverie, they were calling for the blessings to begin. What would Hephaistion say? What could Hephaistion say? What would his heart allow him to say? For a lifetime they'd readied themselves for this eventuality but none of their rationalizing could halt or even stem the flow of blood that Alexander knew was pouring from his life long companion's heart. Worse yet as best man he was expected to proffer up not only one but two blessings, one at the breakfast and later after the wedding at the evening feast.

Oxyartes spoke first. The proud father addressed the gathering in flowing Persian and then in decent Greek. He should be proud Hephaistion thought, his daughter was being married off to the king of Persia, and half the known world. He shuddered, 'yes, and to the master of my heart.' What father wouldn't be happy. His own father, he thought, and was strangely relieved that the man was now dead so the shame of Hephaistion's passions would not cause the aged man any more pain. He'd be leaving no heir, no legacy. The old Athenian had died without ever having grandsons, alone with his orchards while his only son, chased around the world trying to fulfill a madman's dream. All the while warming the madman's bed. Amyntor had never begrudged Hephaistion for his love of Alexander, the father and son had parted on good terms. Amyntor blessing his son's choices and wishing him the best. As the hawk faced Persian finished the toast he glared across the table at Hephaistion. 'Yes,' the troubled man thought as he fearlessly met the black eyed man's gaze, he would have heard the stories about Alexander and himself; of their far less than sacrosanct relationship. 'Yes, you can hate me as well Oxyartes. You understand so little about me though. My hide is thick and your hate will simply ricochet off of it.' Oxyartes nodded, with mock congeniality, to Hephaistion indicating that it was now the young general's turn to celebrate the occasion with kind words. Hephaistion waited for the server to refill the cups, his heart was pounding and his his palms were damp with sweat despite his attempt to calm himself.

Alexander turned to face Hephaistion, saddness clouding his gray eyes. His heart was breaking for Hephaistion. He cursed himself for naming his gentle friend best man. The pain he saw in in Hephaistion's blue eyes staggered him. He took a deep breath and tried to lend him his stregnth. Hephaistion raised his golden gobblet and began to speak. His voice was halting and quiet at first, very unsure. Alexander glanced round the table at his other commanders, he was surprised to see that even the staunchest detractors of the young general seemed to feel Hephaistion's pain.

"To the great King Alexander, my dearest friend and closest companion. My general, my liege, my…friend. A man that eclipses any and all who dare fall into the shadow of his greatness. A man whose dream is without bounds, and who possesses the blood of gods and the fierceness of the lion. A man without boundaries, without human limitations, a man who does all that he begins with a fervor unknown to the world before his bright and mighty light shined upon his realm. To Alexander and all that he will bring to the world. To Alexander and his beautiful bride Roxane and their joyous union. May they get many strong sons and live in a happiness guarded over by the gods themselves, and myself as well. To the future as Alexander writes it. To…to…" his voice hitched and he looked straight into Alexander's eyes. He was searching for words, "To…"

"To the greatest find and most important acquisition of my life, the keeper of my heart and my soul and my sanity. To my Hephaistion." Alexander declared in a strong, loud voice. Then a bit quieter, "to 'our' good, loyal and brave General Hephaistion. Hephaistion." He raised his cup and the guests all followed suit. Neither man really noticed though as their eyes were locked on one another's. Hephaistion then shocked them all by repeating the blessing in nearly flawless Persian.

The breakfast ended and the gathered guests began to dispearse and ready themselves for the actual wedding. Hephaistion tried to slip away unnoticed but was cornered by Parminion. Expecting to be ridiculed he heaved a huge sigh, lifted his chin and squared off facing the old general.

"General Parminion." He said with firm politeness, hoping that the tone of his voice would halt, or at least stem the man's tirade. Hephaistion was instead shocked when Parminion grasped him firmly by his forearm and smiled broadly at him.

"General Hephaistion." The man began, stunning Hephaistion. None of the other companions ever addressed him as 'general', it was a way for them to surreptitiously disregard and strip him of his rank. "My compliments on your blessing and on your gracious and humble bearing during the breakfast. I cannot pretend to know how difficult this is for you. You showed great honor and forbearance Hephaistion. A lesser man would not have managed nearly as well. I commend you lad, well done. You bring great pride upon the house of Amyntor and I know that your father would have thought the same. My condolences on his passing. It honors all of us to have you serve as Alexander's best man, and that honor, whether we approve or disapprove of your relationship with Alexander, 'is' yours as it rightfully should be."

"I…" he bowed slightly out of respect for the older man's position. "General Parminion, I…thank you for your condolences and…kind words. It is not often that I am blessed by such kindness. Thank you." He bowed again. Stunned by the man's words. "I truly do appreciate your kindness, it will help carry me through the day. Thank you."

"Father we must go, let him be!"

Parminion nodded in Philotas' direction. "That one, son or not, could learn a lot from you boy. Take care, General Hephaistion."

Hephaistion watched as Parminion and Philotas left the hall. Philotas, never one to let a thing go, turned and shot Hephaistion a wicked glare. Yes, he thought the man did have much to learn. He flinched a bit as a hand grasped his right elbow. He spun around and faced Alexander, who began to gently pull him along. They entered a small alcove off the main hall and faced each other.

Alexander reached out and gently pushed a bit of hair back behind Hephaistion's ear so that he could better se his face. The moment was heavy with uncertainty. Neither man knew how to bridge the ever widening gap that had come between them.

"Will I see you after the feast and before…"

Hephaistion shuddered. '…and before.' "No, Alexander, I would not think so. It would be less then proper." He whispered, his voice seemingly lost. "I will, I think, ride out again when I can make a polite exit from the festivities. Once my duty to you is complete It will be easier…" He found that he could not look Alexander in the eye. "I do not feel the urge to celebrate."

"Hephaistion, there is the morning, the bed sheet. The duty is yours. You…"

Hephaistion closed his eyes and tried to block out the scene that would be played out in the morning. He shuffled forward and leaned his forehead on Alexander's chest. He was trembling. "Alexander. Please, find another way."

"There is none my Hephaistion, none." He wrapped his arms around him and held him in a fierce embrace. "I have to go." He took Hephaistion's face in his hands and forced his bowed head up. He stared into Hephaistion's eyes and tried to penetrate his soul with a mere look. "I love only you my Hephaistion, only you." He kissed the top of Hephaistion's head then released him. "Your escort is waiting."

"Your escort be damned, Alexander! Did you truly think that I would not come?"

"Yes, I did."

"Wedding day or not, great king or not you are assuredly the most foolish bastard I have ever met." He tried to smile, tried to ease things for Alexander but he simply could not. "Go. I will see you at the ceremony and then after tomorrow I will go away for a time." He stepped around Alexander and walked rapidly toward his awaiting escort.


	9. Chapter 9

Title: What Price Fury

Rating: PG for now.

Fandom: Stones movie

Summery: Not For the first time in their relationship Hephaistion is a victim of Alexander's wrathful temper. Mitigating issues play a part weakening the faithful General's defenses causing him to retaliate and havoc ensues before the two can reunite. I can't help but feel as though these two had there fair share of brawls. Egos aside…besides Hephaistion's got other things on his mind.

Genre: Anger and angst and reconciliation

Reviews: Please send advice to and thanks!

Disclaimer: Mr. Stone for this one, he brought them to life so we can torment them! Not purely movie driven I tweaked it a bit.

Thanks: To everyone who awaits updates to this tale and all who provide encouragement. Once again I thought that this chapter would lean toward a conclusion but it seems instead to have opened up the thing to more stuff…we'll just have to see where it goes. Do not despair. Leave that to me…. This is a slow chapter I am afraid. A good deal of interaction between different folks. Maybe a bit of foreshadowing…It is setting up for the wedding and ring scenes that will be coming along. I did the ring scene verbatim. Excuse any glitches in dialogue I tried to get it 100 correct. Mostly dialogue there, Think we have all seen it and I don't want to overwrite impressions of some thing so beautifully wrought. Ahhhh…what else…..I could keep going over it trying to edit all my punctuation glitches and what not but…since I stink at that lets justb try and post the damn thing!

Chapter 9

"It does no good to be jealous Puppy. It's not as if he was ever really yours." Cleitus whispered into Hephaistion's ear as he came up behind the somber general. The ceremony had just some time ago and Alexander now had a wife. The black haired veteran slapped the younger man on the back and tried to hand him a cup of wine. Hephaistion studied the man's face. Cleitus' piercing black eyes were bright with drink and mirth and he was grinning. Hephaistion furrowed his brow a bit in thought. He sensed no animosity in his rival's demeanor. It seemed that the man was sincerely trying to be nice. Hephaistion took the proffered cup and continued to stare in wonderment at Cleitus as he tried to ascertain what the man was up to. First Parminion and now Black Cleitus.

"Cleitus," he began, unable to hide the hitch that added a stutter to his normally confident voice. "I assure you that if you are here with the intention of forcing a battle with me, or trying to antagonize me into foolish conduct then you…"

"A toast. I come, my dear little Hephaistion, offering a toast." He said smiling, Hephaistion didn't know whether to laugh or flee at the odd encounter.

"A toast?" The younger man stammered incredulously. Chewing on his bottom lip to squelch its trembling.

"Yes, Hephaistion. A toast to us. Me and you and you and me. Please indulge an ugly, old, foolish warrior just this once." He paused and studied the handsome young man standing before him. Cleitus read confusion, fear, and mistrust in Hephaistion's azure eyes. "Good then." He raised his cup and Hephaistion cautiously followed suit never taking his eyes from the big man.

"To us. To the generals Hephaistion and Cleitus. To us. Who alone, out of all the men in this godforsaken mob that we call an army, can truly claim to have been used up, sucked dry and thrown away by their Kings. The only two men who have the right to say that they truly loved the man beneath the crown and were never blinded by that glimmering trinket's empty brightness! To loyalty of the heart Hephaistion. To you." Cleitus bowed slightly before continuing. "Because, boy, despite our differences my heart goes out to you on this damned miserable day. I've been here lad. I have… lived in your skin. " They downed their wine, Cleitus dropped the gold cup to the trodden ground and pulled Hephaistion into a tight embrace. "Don't worry Puppy, with an ass like yours you'll replace Alexander in no time. The horny bastards are probably linin' up as we speak!" He pushed away and reaching out brushed his calloused thumb across the faint scar left by the wicked punch he had leveled Hephaistion with some weeks earlier. Hephaistion flinched but his legs refused to move him out of Cleitus' range. "Sorry 'bout that, lad." He said pinching his torn ear and with a tight little smirk he was gone; leaving Hephaistion with his empty cup in hand and the discarded one at his feet.

Hephaistion stared down for a very long moment at the intricately engraved golden goblet. It seemed to the man that time had stilled. Halted for a while and now was slowly grinding forward again. Stretching him along with it. The encounter with Cleitus seemed surreal, as if he had dreamt it while standing, wide awake, surrounded by the know drunken throng of revelers. He was trembling slightly. Partly, he knew from exhaustion, and partly from the wash of utter relief that had surged through his body when he realized that Cleitus truly had no intention of accosting him. He didn't fear the old warrior, instead he had been terrified of causing Alexander embarrassment by having to fight his dark haired rival. Finally he was grudgingly dragged back to the present by a familiar voice softly calling his name. He flinched at the sound and took a staggering step away from its source. He looked up briefly to face the intruders then returned his gaze to the fallen goblet. Still trapped in his confusion he heard his name again.

"Hephaistion. Hephaistion?" Ptolemy said quietly again.

Hephaistion flinched when a firm hand grasped him by his left bicep and looking up found Ptolemy and Nearchus looking at him their eyes marked with concern. But again the grounded goblet drew him back into his tired reverie.

"He's exhausted, Nearchus. Wiped out. Flat out dead on his feet! He shouldn't be here. His part's done until morning."

"I fear that you are right, my friend." He agreed and reaching out laid the back of his hand on Hephaistion's right cheek. "He's not fevered, more like in shock."

"That bastard Cleitus did this! Hephaistion, say something boy. I'll kill that old prick if he's harmed him permanently! By the gods, Hephaistion!"

Nearchus bent down and retrieved the dropped cup. He twirled it around and ran his thick, rope calloused fingers over the engraved scene that portrayed wrestling matches between several groups of naked young men. Hephaistion reached out and took the golden cup from the sailor's hand and held it close to his chest.

"I…Cleitus…he…left it; just there," he pointed down at the ground. "he…" At a loss for words he scrunched up his brow and rubbed his Persian booted toe over the sand where the cup had fallen; rubbing out the small indention it had left behind. Then he snapped his head up, tossing his bronze hair back from hanging in his face and sighed a great, long painful sigh. Nearchus grinned a bit when he was able to finally get a glimpse of his friend's blue eyes. They always reminded him of his beloved sea, and because seeing his life's love in Hephaistion's eyes brought him great joy and happiness he loved the handsome general as well.

He pushed Hephaistion's hair back a bit more and squinted up at the man. "By the gods Hephaistion, with a stiff breeze like that sigh I could sail us clear back to Babylon."

"I am, uhm, I… Cleitus, he toasted us. Me and him, us." He said in a tired whisper. Ptolemy cocked his head to the left and studied Hephaistion. "Alexander thinks that he has stopped doing," he copied Ptolemy's action, "That. For such a smart man he can be a little silly at times."

"Lets get you to bed my friend. You've had a fair amount of wine and your exhausted. There is no longer any need for you to endure this Hephaistion. You've handled it all with unerring graciousness and pride. Right, Nearchus, he should sleep now. The dawn will come early and it brings only more grief."

"I am tired. Will the two of you walk with me then?"

"Of course." Nearchus confirmed and wrapped his arm around the slumped man's shoulders. "Come now. Nice and easy." Together, with Hephaistion propped between them they made their way to the young man's room.

Alexander tried, through continual interruptions, to watch first, Hephaistion's encounter with Cleitus and then his beloved friend's encounter with Ptolemy and Nearchus. Cleitus did not appear to be causing a problem, the two seemed congenial enough but what ever the man had done or said, for better or worse, had sucked away the meager air remaining in Hephaistion's willowing sails and left the gentle man deflated and adrift. Even from across the pavilion he could tell, by Hephaistion's body language alone, that the man was exhausted and should leave. Bound and tied by protocol and duty, all he could only sit and hope that his other two generals would see this as well and get Hephaistion to go to his rooms. He cursed the anchor of kingship that always seemed to threaten to drag him beneath the waves and drown him. 'Him' them really, them. The festivities would go on all night and Hephaistion would drop soon if not made to see sense. So he watched the three men converse. Then Alexander suddenly burst out laughing for what seemed to be no reason, shocking his guests. As he watched, Ptolemy had cocked his head to the left and Hephaistion had mimicked the him. It was Alexander's old habit and Hephaistion was apparently scolding Ptolemy for copying it. This was Hephaistion's greatest peeve when it came to the other generals it seemed. The man would tolerate all manner of affronts against his Alexander but no one was allowed to mimic, mock or mention the cocked head habit. Hephaistion would fly into a frenzy over it. Alexander would scold his old friend but every time he'd tried the tongue lashing seemed to end up with him laughing uncontrollably at Hephaistion's ridiculous, hyper-sensitivity about the quirky habit.

He turned away from his vigil at the sound of Pharnakas' voice. "That is good, Great Alexander. They do well to take him away. He is a treasure of a friend, my king. There is, Alexander, no greater treasure to be found in Persia. Not in gold, not in silks, not in spices… none. Please, always be sure to never, what is the word I seek? Never alienate him. Clutch him to your chest as he now clutches that golden goblet. Never have I seen a man perform such a painful task with such impeccable dignity. Hephaistion was proud, Alexander, yet not …prideful. Possessive yet obliging. There is a subtle difference in both of these. This much, I know that you know. Know this as well Alexander," he leaned forward and bringing his face close to his king's he took a breath and went on his black eyes fixed on Alexander's gray. "When your Hephaistion, performed the proskynesis, as he gave you away, myself and many others of 'us' shed tears." He bowed slightly. "His love for you and us is deep. Misunderstood, as yet, by many; but in time they too will see the true beauty and extraordinary worth of your treasure." Alexander watched as the handsome Persian bowed again and excused himself. By the time he returned his gaze to where Hephaistion had been standing the three men had vanished into the palace.

Finally it was time for the two to leave the celebration and return to the palace. Roxane was escorted to her rooms to be prepared by her ladies and then delivered to Alexander. Alexander was taken to his room where he paced. He felt like a caged lion. Visions of the powerful cats caged and taunted by handlers as he'd entered into Babylon plagued his thoughts. Was that what he had indeed become. A pet to be cornered and harassed, forced into acting out to impress those around him. To growl and grovel, fight and fuck at the prod of some master's stick. Who was his master? He did not want to do this thing tonight, yet he felt the stick of duty jabbing painfully into his ribs.

What he wanted was to run to Hephaistion. To make certain that he was safely asleep. But that could not be allowed to happen. So he walked back and forth wringing his hands in the small foyer to his room. The door was there. All he had to do was open it. Just open it and run. Snatch the stick from his handler and run. She was beautiful though. He desired her. Alexander's gut twisted at the thought and fought down the rush of warmth in his loins. He didn't love her, he loved her beauty and her fire but not 'her'. There was, he tried to convince himself, a difference. He loved Hephaistion. All of Hephaistion. Hephaistion could be burned and left unrecognizable by naphtha but Alexander knew that he would still completely love the man. But Roxane he needed as a means to an end, a queen, a mother for his sons. Hephaistion he needed like he needed air and water, needed…he was nothing without his Hephaistion, but without this union, without Roxane and this consummation of this duty he was simply a king without an heir and a king without a queen. Without Hephaistion he was but half of himself. But this alien desire to take her frightened him.

Nearchus and Ptolemy left Hephaistion, wrapped in a warm, thick fur, dozing in his favorite chair. They'd watered his wine heavily and allowed Hephaistion's favorite dog to stay in the room. He'd refused to bathe, or change his clothes promising to do it later. The men left hoping their friend would be able to finally sleep.

Hephaistion awoke from his light slumber just as the sun was setting. He walked to the window and watched the festivities below. They were leading Roxane away, and Alexander trailed with his entourage not far behind. It wouldn't be long now he knew before the marriage was finalized. Sighing he turned from the sight and poured himself some wine. 'Gods,' he thought 'why do Always feel so damn cold?' Cup in hand he began walking around his room. Cleitus' cup was there, he ran his fingers over the sculpted bodies of the young wrestlers. 'Ah, my Alexander.' He moved along the wall and studied the large statue of Athena. He touched her breasts, first stroking them and then cupping them in his calloused palm wondering at the roundness of them, about the sensuality that men found there. A sensuality that was and had always been lost to him. A mystery. In truth he'd never really touched a breast. He'd been in the crush of a crowd and had them rubbed against his back, he'd had women rub themselves provocatively against him in hopes of awakening, in him, that round, soft sensuality, in hopes of swimming in his beauty; being bathed in the light of his blue eyes. He felt naught for it though. So Hephaistion had never really just taken a real breast and cupped it in his hand as was doing now. The marble was unyielding, it possessed shape and beauty but no softness or life. It was cold as well. He rubbed his thumb across the nipple and closed his eyes trying to see, trying to understand what Alexander wanted. What he saw in Roxane. Duty he knew, but he also was well aware that Alexander desired this Roxane woman. They'd been together far too long for Alexander to hide it from him. He shivered and smiled a bit as he grew murderously hard in a wicked instant. Groaning he opened his eyes, palmed the chilly, rigid breast, and shivered again. His nipples were the most sensitive part of his body. Alexander could finish him off by simply sucking and nipping on them and them alone. They'd laughed about it many times over the years. He chugged down his wine, cursed Ptolemy and Nearchus for over-watering the stuff and moved across the small room to his statue of Alexander.

Seeing his lover rendered life sized and incredibly life-like did nothing to relieve his problem. "How about it Ajax, refill my cup for me!" he held the cup out toward the big dog and smiled. "Alright, I'll do it myself. But just you wait," he stared down at the animal, "I fill your bowl you fiendish hound…" He nudged him with his toe and glared down at the knotted beast when Ajax growled at him.

Hephaistion walked back to the statue and studied it. Alexander, was to him, the most beautiful creature he'd ever set eyes upon. He stroked the granite cheek with his finger tips and ran his thumb across the stone lips, he gently traced the crick, captured perfectly in the gray stone, in Alexander's nose with his index finger. The crick was put there when they were seventeen, a birthday gift punch from Hephaistion and the sculptor had rendered it flawlessly. He smiled and set the cup aside. Then he turned and walked back to the Athena. With both hands now he cupped the breasts. Round. Pushing onto his tip toes he buried his face between the hard, cold lumps…'So cold and unyielding, Alexander you'd do well to remember your mother.' He looked over his shoulder at his statue of Alexander and hissed at its overwhelming beauty and sensuality. Yes, in Alexander he saw and felt sensuality, sensuality so devastatingly powerful that he cowered before its fury at times. The cocked head the eyes, 'Oh, by the gods, the eyes. The eyes and the cocked head!' Even cast in stone Alexander's eyes were whirlpools of pure and raw sensuality that dragged him in and dragged him down. Hephaistion would be caught, trapped and held within and without the spiraling currents of emotion. He released the statue's breasts and returned to Alexander's statue.

Hephaistion stood in the granite rendered shadow of his love, his life, his soul mate and he trembled with a ravenous desire. "You can take her this night Alexander, but I too will feel release." Ajax whined at the sound of his master's strident voice and Hephaistion jammed his right hand into his silky Persian pants, grasped his cock and began to stroke himself vigorously while he traced the contours of Alexander's granite body with his left hand. His fingers tickled Alexander's chest, stroked his lips, ambled over his ass, rubbed the taut stone frozen penis. Hephaistion came with a deep groan and dropped to his knees. He felt ashamed, he seldom practiced self gratification, as it left him feeling empty and cold, but this…by the gods this had been explosive. Silently he thanked Alexander for forcing him to take the big statue. More pointedly he realized just how tired he was.

A short time later Hephaistion was cleansed of his actions and on his way to Alexander's room. He knew that it was wrong. He knew that it was forward and rude. Risky, and suicidal as well but he had to see him, he had to stake his claim. Honor be damned! He'd used it all up during the day. Now he was simply a lost and frightened man, about to try and hold onto the only good thing in his life. As he crept through the dim torch light tinted corridors he fought off his tears. His hand clutched the gift so tightly that his fingernails cut into his skin. He focused on his task and willed himself forward. Then he was there, standing before Alexander's door staring at the two guards who stared and glared at him with incredulous indecision.

"No one is to pass within, Hephaistion." The older of the two stated, his voice sure but wavering.

"I too am Alexander boy. You 'will' step aside." Their voices were hushed. Hephaistion actually felt badly for the young guards. He was playing a gambit that neither knew how to counter. He was Alexander 'too' by Alexander's own admission and they knew it but….the orders given by Alexander had stated 'no one'. Hephaistion was far from being 'no one'. "Move aside. What I have to say is for the king's ears only…" He placed his hand on his sword and stared at the dismayed young men. "I, am waiting!" He hissed as he unsheathed his weapon. "I, too am Alexander and you two will suffer 'his' wrath," he nodded toward the closed door, "if I am not admitted!" They stepped aside and watched in shock as he did the unthinkable. He knocked quietly on the door before stepping into the king's chamber. Having both stood guard before at the king's chambers they knew that Hephaistion never knocked.

Alexander was standing in the foyer and when he heard the light, familiar knock and saw Hephaistion enter he squinted through the dim light and moved forward to make sure he was not having some cruel waking dream. Hephaistion shushed him, signing with a finger to his lips, and stepped further in to the dark space.

He spoke before Alexander could begin. "I found it in Egypt." He began, his voice shaky and his eyes crimson with unshed tears. "The man who sold it to me, said it came from a time when men worshiped the sun and the stars." He finished unwrapping the fiery red and amber colored ring and gently took Alexander's left hand in his. "I'll always think of you as the sun, Alexander and I pray that your dream, will shine on all men." As he spoke he slipped the radiant ring onto Alexander's left ring finger. Then, with his voice breaking he threw himself into Alexander's arms. "I wish for you a son, Alexander." The men embraced fiercely. Alexander trying to pull Hephaistion's closer and closer to him. Squeezing him as tightly as possible, and cursing Hephaistion's fashion sense. The thick fur wrap only held them apart. "You are a great man." They parted a bit and Hephaistion rushed on unwilling to completely release Alexander. "Many will love you Alexander but none as pure as I…"


	10. Chapter 10

Title: What Price Fury

Rating: PG for now.

Fandom: Stones movie

Summery: Not For the first time in their relationship Hephaistion is a victim of Alexander's wrathful temper. Mitigating issues play a part weakening the faithful General's defenses causing him to retaliate and havoc ensues before the two can reunite. I can't help but feel as though these two had there fair share of brawls. Egos aside…besides Hephaistion's got other things on his mind.

Genre: Anger and angst and reconciliation

Warning: Implied rape and sexual brutality. It's there because I couldn't see the scenario honestly with out it. That would have been a manufactured environment.

Reviews: Please send advice to and thanks!

Disclaimer: Mr. Stone for this one, he brought them to life so we can torment them! Not purely movie driven I tweaked it a bit.

Thanks: To everyone who awaits updates to this tale and all who provide encouragement. Once again I thought that this chapter would lean toward a conclusion but it seems instead to have opened up the thing to more stuff…we'll just have to see where it goes. Do not despair. Leave that to me…. . Ahhhh…what else…..I could keep going over it trying to edit all my punctuation glitches and what not but…since I stink at that lets just try and post the damn thing!

What Price Fury 10

Alexander lay on his back, naked, with his hands resting on his stomach, staring at the timber ceiling. He was cold. Too cold. Cold clean through to his heart. So cold that no amount of fur or fire would be able to bring him warmth. He knew that the only brazier that could warm his soul was in his rooms alone and lost. The brazier of Hephaistion's heart. Yes, that could chase this forsaken chill from his being. He rubbed absently at the spot on his finger where Hephaistion's ring had been and cursed his weakness. He should not have cast it away. Indeed this wife of his was made of fire and fight but he knew after bedding her that he would never love her. Conversely he felt a tinge of hatred for the beautiful dancer. Hatred because she'd possessed the power to turn his eyes her way and take them from Hephaistion. Hephaistion.

What to do about Hephaistion. The man seemed about to crumble when he'd brought the ring. Alexander cursed him. He had been weak, but Alexander knew that his friend could not help it. Knew that a lifetime of planning and reassuring one another that even after he took a wife they would still be as one words simply were not enough. He came to a decision then. To hell with duty. He'd played that game for days now. He'd suffered their ceremonies and given them a queen. He'd consummated the wedding and tolerated their petty games. Now it was Hephaistion that he would see too.

Alexander took a sidelong glance at the woman sleeping beside him, grimaced and rose from the bed. He searched the floor along the wall where he'd thrown Hephaistion's ring and found it lying there; the brilliant red stone alight in a thin tendril of moonlight. With great reverence he placed the ring back on his finger, kissed it and then pressed it against his heart.

"Your love for me is the purest of all loves my Hephaistion, and the gods willing I will return it with equal purity and eternal resolve." He kissed the ring again, threw on some clothes and after a farewell kiss to Roxane's cheek he made his way to Hephaistion's rooms unaware that his new queen had been feigning sleep.

The corridors were empty except for the night watch. Alexander hurried along with a heavy robe thrown over his head. Why he hid he was not sure, but stealth seemed a needed precaution. It was in a sense silly. Anyone who knew him would recognize his gait. The men were trained to key on him in battle, taught to know how he sounded and moved. Here and there he stepped over passed out revelers and disheveled whores. The morning would come the place would be ripe with vomit and piss. Three turns later found him at Hephaistion's door. A dim light shone beneath it. Alexander found himself hoping his friend was asleep; yet also wishing to see him. He pushed the door open gently and entered the room.

Hephaistion sat in his chair in front of the fire place dozing. He had his left foot elevated on the stone rise and the right foot on the floor; a half empty up of wine was balanced between his hands on his lap. Alexander approached the sleeper quietly and knelt down between his legs. He reached into his belt pouch and removed Hephaistion's pendent. He had never returned it after the nasty fight all those long painful weeks ago. He removed the goblet from Hephaistion's hands and placed the pendent in the man's left palm, wrapping the thong around and around his hand and then closing the fingers over it. He then took Hephaistion's right hand and as gently and as lovingly as he could he kissed the palm. He watched Hephaistion's face for signs of his waking and seeing none he began to kiss the exposed skin of his belly, slowly working his way upward, kissing and nipping at first his right nipple and then the left. Hephaistion stirred and groaned just as Alexander knew that he would. The only thing Alexander was more familiar with than the Iliad was Hephaistion's body. He'd teased Hephaistion on many occasions, saying that should Hephaistion die first he would simply nip, nibble and suckle him back to life with his nipples. Hephaistion hated the morbid thought and always scolded the king. He even tried lying; telling Alexander that it was not his touch that drove him to trembling but the morbidity of Alexander's thought.

"Alexander, you should stop." Hephaistion whispered sleepily without opening his eyes or moving.

"Why?"

"Ah gods, please not that."

"How about this one then?" Alexander asked switching from Hephaistion's right nipple to his left.

"You are killing me, Alexander."

"What better way is there to die and we are together as well." He pulled away and looked up into Hephaistion's crystal blue eyes. "I had to see you, Hephaistion. I need you."

Hephaistion ran his hands through Alexander's long blond hair, and noticed the pendent. "I…I didn't think you would return it." He said his voice breaking. "I thought…that with the wedding and my behavior and…" He paused and tried to halt the sob that was surging from his chest. I just thought…I'd …gods Alexander!" He surged forward into a stunned Alexander's arms. "Don't make love to me Alexander; not tonight." He squeezed Alexander tight. Just.. can we just lie together, talk in quiet whispers and tell secrets that we should have told long ago and I just want to hear your heart and feel your breath on my cheek and… can we Alexander like in Meiza, like before Persia like…before all of this! Just forget the wedding and Roxane and duty and just share a bit, of well just stuff about one another again?" he was speaking rapidly and Alexander cut him off by pushing him away and staring into his eyes.

"Yes of course, if that's what you want, my love. Of course. Come then."

They stood together. "Wait," Alexander halted him. "First things first." He took the pendent from Hephaistion's trembling hand, placed it over his head, and patted it against Hephaistion's chest. He then leaned in and kissed him tenderly on the lips "I love you. I love the ring, it was a beautiful moment that I will never forget, Hephaistion. It meant more to me then that whole fool ceremony did. Now, come and whisper me these secrets. It's chilly in here and I long for your warmth."

Moments later they were twined, in age old familiarity, around one another in Hephaistion's fur covered bed. Alexander was on his back and Hephaistion was half on top of him his ear over Alexander's heart.

"You start." Alexander prodded Hephaistion. "This was your idea."

"Ask me anything. Remember, like we used to do back home. Anything."

"That's hardly fair love. Is there anything left to ask?" He stroked Hephaistion's hair and kissed the top of his head.

"Yes. Always I think, Alexander. Things get passed over and we've come a long way."

"Alright then. Lets get to the point. Have you ever slept with another, when apart from me?"

"Yes." The answer came easy to him for some reason. He pressed himself against Alexander and placed a soft kiss under the man's chin. "Once. Well twice. Remember when you sent me away some months ago to the timber camp? There was a man there, I found him strikingly beautiful and gentle…I let my discipline lapse. I…I am usually not bothered by my loneliness. It's my burden for loving you. But I heard him playing and he…I felt guilty. Like I'd wronged 'our' love Alexander. I am sorry but despite those feelings I do not regret it."

"Was he gentle?"

"Yes. The gentlest. He loves me, Alexander. We still communicate."

"And you do you love him?"

Hephaistion squeezed his eyes shut. "Yes, in a way, I think I do."

"That's good, Hephaistion. I am pleased for you. You have so few friends my love." He kissed Hephaistion's forehead. "You said twice."

"Yes, I am ashamed of the second time though. I was not kind, I was harsh and careless. I fucked Milos, I was drunk the night before the wedding I…" He pushed up onto his elbow and met Alexander's gray eyes. "I just needed to be in control of something."

"Is he alright?"

"Yes. Fine. He loves me well. I think he's always wanted me to take him."

Alexander chuckled. "You think? Ah my beauty you are so blind sometimes. He's wanted in your pants for years."

"Hmmm" He laid back down again. "You are not angry?"

"No my love. No. Now then, how many of these little questions do I get?"

"Until I fall asleep."

"What does this handsome timber camp fellow smell like?"

"Alexander!"

"It's a question?"

"Like, the high mountains Alexander. He is from a far away place. From the Celtic tribes. A wanderer. Smell? Like snow. He smells like snow and fir trees and mossy earth he tastes like the earth. He's big Alexander, as tall, no taller than Cleitus. Long black hair and his eyes are jade green. He plays the flute beautifully, he…"

Alexander put his hand over Hephaistion's mouth. "Enough!"

"He's well, godlike. Jealous?" He asked and then giggled.

"Yes! I am! Big? Big everywhere or just tall and broad big?"

"Wouldn't you love to know. Ample. How's that?" He kissed Alexander's chin again.

"Ok then. I feel better, ample I can deal with. So, who took who?"

Hephaistion paused and thought about the question. "He did. He took…me. I'm sorry."

"You weren't hurt?" Alexander's voice was full of concern. Normally Hephaistion did the taking and he'd always been skittish about reversing roles.

"No. I trusted him for some reason, Alexander. It was good. Very good. I just, well felt as if I'd failed you."

"No. I'm glad for you. Just as long as you are not hurt in body or soul." Alexander, stroked Hephaistion's cheek as he thought about his next question. "Can I ask one that I have asked before?"

"Yes." Hephaistion cringed at the thought though. If he had refused to answer in the past how would he answer now?

"Hephaistion, tell me what happened when my father kept you behind after the wedding banquet fight. You have never talked of how you spent your time while we were away." Hephaistion shuddered and tried to pull away but Alexander's held him against his body and kissed his cheek. "Tell me, love, its time. I've asked before and you shrug it off. I want to know about the rats, about all of it. It's, well I worry over it Hephaistion."

"Alexander," his voice was a whisper. "I don't want you to know."

" You said finish out the secrets, love! I want to know what my father and that bastard did to you my love. I have heard so many rumors. They drive me crazy. I do not wish to spoil the mood but…" He rolled out from under Hephaistion so that they lay facing one another. He cupped the frightened man's cheek in his hand. "Please, how else can I help you to forget it and heal? I know you struggle with it. I am strong enough tell me. You've carried it alone for too long now."

Hephaistion took a breath and shut his eyes. Sometimes he wondered if he even recalled it all correctly. The days had blurred together, a red wash of pain, despair and loneliness. In a hushed voice he began.

"Alexander, after you left they gave me over to that brute that was Attalus' personal guard. Your father said he could 'play' with me all he wanted but not rape me. That he was saving that for himself. He beat me for days in the dungeon, just a little at a time, it was dark and cold and wet. I was stripped of my clothes. Sometimes Attalus came and hurt me as well while Philip watched. There was no light, Alexander. Not unless they were there with the torches." He stared straight into Alexander's as he spoke his own blue ones unblinking as the memories played out in his mind. "They never raped me. They would work up to it and threaten then stop. Philip would come and ready himself and shove me down as if he was going to do it but he never did. He said if he raped my body it would heal but if they raped my mind it would stay with me forever. They…they would, oh Alexander, why make me say it?"

"Tell me all of it."

"They would spill themselves on me. The loved to see me grovel in my own filth and their fluids. My eyes were so swollen that even in the end with the torches I could not see. The rats. Attalus brought them in a box. Huge ones. He loosed them on me. Alexander…" He began to tremble and Alexander wrapped his arms around him. "They bite and nip. Their whiskers…they crawled over me I was too weak to fight them. It was Cleitus, Cleitus came to me one day. He said that he knocked out the guard. He brought me a bit of food and water. He killed the rats and cursed Philip for his cruelty. I couldn't see him but I knew his voice. Ypu know like in battle and his touch."

"Cleitus?" Alexander repeated incredulously.

"We have never spoken of it. He said he felt for me, that I'd shown great courage and loyalty by going after Attalus. Finally Philip and Attalus came and dragged me up. I told them that I killed the rats. He said they were there to rape me and take what was rightfully theirs. They drew lots to see who would be first. They readied themselves and then Philip pulled me to my knees by my hair. He leered down at me and asked if I recalled what he'd said about raping my mind. He forced me to nod by pulling my hair. Then he told me you were dead. That you'd been killed trying to kill him. They left. After that I got food and a doctor came to tend my wounds and torches. They kept me locked away and I healed up a bit. I had no sense of the passing days really. You were dead, nothing mattered. The doctor pleaded with me to fight and get well…there was no need. Philip came after a very long time and studied me the doctor was there as well. Your father asked why I was not getting well. The Doctor told him I'd no will to live. Philip ordered me taken to a room in his wing of the palace and placed under special guard. Better food and care as well. A week later I was taken to my own quarters and two days later you were there."

"Hephaistion?" Some part of him knew that his beloved was lying but his heart urged him to let it go.

"I'm sorry. I never wanted you to know of your father's cruelty."

"Why? I am aware of your father's. Your back. He flogged you."

"He loved me enough to make me strong. I miss him. It was love Alexander. He cried, you know, as he flogged me. He loved me well. Sometimes love is clouded by pain and pain is needed to show love. Do you think that he is watching us? I do. Now that I have accepted his death I am at ease. I feel that he is closer to me now. As if he can see me and watch me help you forge this new world. Watch and see me achievements, watch and be proud of me. So few are…proud of me. It does hurt sometimes to be ignored and hated. It gets hard Alexander always living on the outside, always being the outcast, the fool of the kings court. You know there have been times that I have cried. Actually cried, alone in my despair. How childish is that? How foolish is that? When you took in the eunuch…by the gods the taunting was enough to drive me to suicide. I feel him now my father, Alexander; as if he is so close to my heart. At my side. Proud. I'm rambling sorry."

"Yes, Hephaistion. Rambling's ok. You wanted to talk. That is truly wonderful about Amyntor. I am glad you feel more at ease with his passing." He answered but his mind was far ahead toiling over the tale that Hephaistion had just told him.

Alexander had no words. Hephaistion had spent half a year incarcerated in Philip's dungeon being tortured, thinking that he was dead. He knew from having experienced it, the agony of fearing that Hephaistion was dead, and it had only been a matter of a long day and a half. After Gaugamela Hephaistion had gone missing. Lost, unconscious, buried under the dead. But to think for a half a year that the other half of your soul was dead. He recalled Hephaistion's stunned silence that day so long ago. His physical injuries had healed so Alexander had no clue that he'd been beaten, but Hephaistion had fallen to his knees sobbing uncontrollably when he saw Alexander. He'd fought off Alexander's embrace for long moments before allowing the confused prince to hold him. Once he'd calmed a bit he took Alexander with a fury and with a violence that Alexander had not experienced before. It had bordered on rape except the Alexander had let the act occur. He allowed Hephaistion to seek surcease for his desperation. It was the first time Hephaistion was cruel to him and it would not be the last.

"Do I get another question?" Alexander asked and Hephaistion nodded against his chest.

"If my father had allowed you to be raped you would you tell me?"

Hephaistion thought about the question. He'd lied when he'd told Alexander the story of his incarceration. He told a sort of partial truth, a less painful truth, held back some of the words that even after so many years he could not bring himself to speak. Should he lie again?

"No."

"I see. Well then." Alexander knew Attalus and Philip both and was well aware of their predilections and Hephaistion's tale didn't quite ring true. Fine, let his beloved tell his half truths, if that was the best that he could do then he'd have to accept it. "One more and this is a hard one."

"No more about…"

Alexander cut him off. "So, handsome and brave and loyal and gentle Hephaistion son of Amyntor, do you love your King?" He pushed Hephaistion's hair back off of his forehead and smiled at his lover and friend. He let himself swim in the blue depths of Hephaistion's eyes and basked in the man's innocent glad smile.

"No. Absolutely not. I love 'you' Alexander. My Alexander." He leaned forward and kissed Alexander deeply and with a sweet hunger. Then he pulled away. "Now, I have a question for you." He buried his fingers in Alexander's hair. "The night before Gaugamela, why did you 'really' turn me away from your bed?"

"Hephaistion," Alexander shrouded his fingers in Hephaistion's copper colored hair, kneading at his scalp as if trying to force his answer into the man's mind. Had I taken you that night I would have…I would have had to put you under arrest come the morning." He pressed his forehead against Hephaistion's. "I would not have been able to watch you ride into battle against those odds." Hephaistion smelled roasted lamb and wine on Alexander's breath. "I would not have been able to let you go. So 'strong' is my love for you Hephaistion! I did not mean to hurt you. I have always…" Hephaistion silenced him with a kiss.

"I changed my mind I think, Alexander." He said after they broke apart. "Would you do as you have sworn to do, and suckle and nibble me until I live again? Alexander, I feel as though I've died over and over during these past many weeks. Bring me back to life my beloved. Love me gently back to life."


	11. Chapter 11

Title: What Price Fury

Rating: PG for now.

Fandom: Stones movie

Summery: Not For the first time in their relationship Hephaistion is a victim of Alexander's wrathful temper. Mitigating issues play a part weakening the faithful General's defenses causing him to retaliate and havoc ensues before the two can reunite. I can't help but feel as though these two had there fair share of brawls. Egos aside…besides Hephaistion's got other things on his mind.

Genre: Anger and angst and reconciliation

Warning: Implied rape and sexual brutality. It's there because I couldn't see the scenario honestly with out it. That would have been a manufactured environment.

Reviews: Please send advice to and thanks!

Disclaimer: Mr. Stone for this one, he brought them to life so we can torment them! Not purely movie driven I tweaked it a bit.

Thanks: To everyone who awaits updates to this tale and all who provide encouragement. Once again I thought that this chapter would lean toward a conclusion but it seems instead to have opened up the thing to more stuff…we'll just have to see where it goes. Do not despair. Leave that to me…. . Ahhhh…what else…..I could keep going over it trying to edit all my punctuation glitches and what not but…since I stink at that lets just try and post the damn thing!

Chapter 11

Alexander awoke just before the sun rose. Hephaistion was wrapped loosely around him, his face buried in the crook of his neck. He smiled at the site of his sleeping companion. Hephaistion had been like soft clay last night allowing him to mold him into a fiery ball of desire. Alexander had kissed and stroked the tired man to dizzying heights of ecstasy. He'd half expected Hephaistion to be rough and violent, but instead he'd simply allowed Alexander to play him like a long forgotten, dusty lyre. In the end Hephaistion had fallen into a deep sleep, relaxed and calm for the first time weeks. Alexander yawned and slipped carefully out of Hephaistion's languid embrace. It would not due for him to be seen coming out of Hephaistion's quarters the morning after his wedding. He brushed Hephaistion's hair back and kissed his cheek. Stubble; soft and nearly blond tickled his lips; smiling he brushed the back of his fingers along the sleepers jaw line. 'Ah my handsome Hephaistion, how I do love when you wear this light beard. Sleep well and I will see you soon.'

His first stop would be at Parminion's quarters. Alexander hoped that the old general was lucid enough, after the previous days festivities, to grant his request. He knew that he could order the man but he hoped that his old friend would see reason and simply agree. Pulling his cloak tighter around his hunched shoulders he made his way to Parminion's rooms. The guards parted for him and he knocked loudly on the heavy timber door.

"What!" A crotchety, hoarse voice bellowed from within. "Who is it by the gods it's far too…" The door swung in and a very bleary eyed Parminion snapped awake at the site of his king. "Alexander!"

"The wine won, I see, my dear, Parminion." Alexander said laughing as he stepped past the groggy man and into the dimly lit room.

"Aye, that and the eunuch." He motioned with a nod of his head to the rumpled bed where a lean dark haired young man was stretched out still deeply asleep. "By the gods, Alexander," he leaned in close and whispered in the king's ear; Alexander blanched at the sour smell of wine that tainted the man's breath. "I see, boy; I see now why you kept that Bagoas around. These Persian sex toys will be the death of us, Alexander, be wary lad. I think, Alexander, that they are some secret weapon, like the Scythe chariots, left behind by Darius to finish us off."

"Yes, Parminion." Alexander agreed standing next to the bed and studying the disheveled eunuch. "They are certainly skilled in their art." He turned and walked back to where the older man was pouring two cups of mixed wine.

"Tell me Alexander, Hephaistion, is he…well as talented as…"

Alexander held a hand up to silence him. "Stop there, my friend." He took the cup from him and drank. "Look, Parminion, I need you to do something for me."

"You sound too serious, Alexander." Parminion stretched, coughed, scratched his balls and sobered a bit. Alexander's tone was all business now which meant he needed to listen. "What is it boy?"

"It is, Hephaistion. I…I do not want to put him through anymore public ritual for the wedding; Parminion. I…I have already asked enough of him." He paused refilled his cup and stared into Parminion's wizened eyes. "Don't you think? I do. I…he's suffered so much at my hand as of late I…"

Parminion studied Alexander. He couldn't claim to understand all of the complex inner workings of the man's mind, but of one thing he was certain. Alexander loved Hephaistion with such unconditional devotion that not even the gods could rend the union apart. He knew as well that Hephaistion's love and devotion to Alexander probably exceeded the king's for him. The young Athenian lived his life for a singular purpose; to devote his every breath and bit of strength to Alexander. Hephaistion would never be swayed from his chosen path. He recalled sitting with Amyntor and talking about Amyntor's fears concerning the two. So long ago, when Alexander and Hephaistion were still young men. He shuddered and watched as Alexander filled his cup again and was pleased to see he added a good dose of water. Young men! They were still young men these new rulers of the world. Parminion let his mind replay that bizarre day in Pella when the bond between Alexander and Hephaistion was clearly defined for all present at the awful event.

He and Amyntor were sitting in the shade of an old apple tree watching the new companions train with swords and discussing the odd bond between the prince and Amyntor's son. Hephaistion was sparring with Cleitus and the big warrior was giving him no quarter. Cleitus' blows pounded down on the smaller Hephaistion mercilessly, driving him back and finally down onto his knees. Still, Cleitus attacked with vicious intensity. Hephaistion parried each heavy blow but the two observers could see that the young man's arms were tiring. Hephaistion finally missed a block and Cleitus' blade found bloody purchase in the boys left pectoral. He howled in pain and tried to roll back and away. Cleitus had followed, his blade slicing into Hephaistion's left buttock, and then his right hamstring was nipped just enough to let him know how close he was to death. Parminion watched, horrified, as Cleitus poked the lad here and there, a slice to his chin, then one to his neck. This was going beyond the bounds of a normal training exercise. All the while Amyntor sat stock still and completely emotionless. Finally from the right side of the training field came a blur of black and Cleitus was knocked aside by the shoulder of a charging Buecephlus. Alexander wheeled the horse around and went straight for the fallen black haired warrior, the big stallion had its teeth bared and was so tense that even from where they sat the two men could see the horse's skin twitching. It was all Alexander could do to reign the animal in. To Parminion's surprise Alexander swung his leg over, dismounted and instead of heading for either Cleitus or Hephaistion he marched, his back straight and rigid with his hand on his sword, over to where he and Amyntor were seated. Parminion smiled at the memory. Alexander drew the Kopis and lunged straight at Amyntor's throat. The stunned Athenian fell over backwards and lay pinned by his prince's sword. Parminion never forgot Alexander's words.

"This is your doing. I know that you paid Black Cleitus to hurt him. Is your vile little whip no longer good enough, General Amyntor? Hmm? I warn you! Hephaistion is me and I him. Hurt one and you hurt us both. Our blood is one blood our hearts one heart. Our souls one soul. Your reign of terror over your son stops here! Mark my words, Amyntor." He'd flicked his wrist and the sharp blade left a finger long slice under Amyntor's chin.

Amyntor began hollering that he'd have Alexander's head as punishment for his disrespectful impetuousness. Hearing the threat, the young prince turned and handed his sword to the furious man. Then he knelt down in front of Amyntor and bowed his head. "Then so be it. I give you my life for Hephaistion's safety and happiness. That he suffers no further hurt at your hands. The hands of one he loves so dearly. Do it! But know this you foolish old man…your son has more honor than you will ever possess. He will kneel before you, as my severed head still rocks on the ground and allow you to take his as well; joining me happily in death. Such is our bond. What stills your hand Amyntor! Do it!" He screamed.

Parminion and Cleitus had moved closer to the two. Hephaistion had made his way there as well, limping and covered in blood. Amyntor raised the weapon his face a mask of rage.

"You whelp of a prince, try me like this and get your wish!" He swung the blade downward before anyone could move but made contact not with Alexander's neck; instead he sliced wickedly into Hephaistion as the already battered boy lunged in to defend Alexander.

Alexander's blade was a good one. Well honed and designed to kill. As Alexander spun round to seek out Hephaistion, he heard Amyntor scream. Guards had restrained him and Cleitus had gone straight for Hephaistion. Alexander stared in horror as the black haired warrior pressed his hands against the gaping wound that ran from Hephaistion's left breast, down and across his flat, muscled stomach, exposing them through a curtain of blood, then over and gouging into his right hip bone, before ending just above his knee. Hephaistion's eyes had glazed over in pain and confusion and through lips bloodied by an earlier blow from Cleitus' sword hilt he whispered 'Alexander?' before crumbling.

"Parminion?" Alexander's voice brought him back to the present.

"It amazes me that he mourned for Amyntor." The old general refilled his cup and sat down in a chair. "He was a brutal father on all counts."

Alexander sat down cross legged on the floor in front of him. Parminion was as much a father to him as Philip. "They did love each other, Parminion."

"Aye, boy, and I love my sons and wanted them to be strong as well; but Amyntor, Amyntor was vicious, Alexander. The boy did not deserve that 'kind' of love. I am an old fool and carry a heart of stone but by the gods boy there's a gentleness in that bastard lover of yours, and that's what Amyntor always said he was trying to beat out of him." He sipped his wine and went on. "It stayed with me, you know, Alexander. That day he dove in front of Amyntor's blade, your blade actually. Hephaistion and I have our differences Alexander, but know this, my life is to serve you; as is his, in that we are as one. The scar, does it ail him still? It was a dreadful wound! And at the hand of his own father. Philip should have had him hung for treason, for attacking you."

"He wanted to. I pled his case for Hephaistion's sake. I pledged my life should he ever be fool enough to attack the crown again." He stood, retrieved the wine and water bringing it closer to them. After refilling their cups he continued. "Yes, it does pain him. A great deal. Look, Parminion, when the sun rises there's a bed sheet to display. I know the ceremony deems that Hephaistion, my best man, should have that 'honor'. I would ask of you old friend, do this for me. Help me spare him the pain of it. He's known enough as of late, pain. I'll not order it but I would plead…"

"No need to plead or order. I had intended to seek you out and offer. That's why I am not still in my warm furs with my…eunuch." He smiled. "I was readying myself to come to you."

"Truly?"

"Alexander, I love you well, I despise your marriage to this woman, and I know I am openly disparaging of your relationship with Hephaistion, make no mistake on any of those counts. I do despise Hephaistion's hold on you, yet I will not in private deny either his love for you or his ability. Make no mistake in that either. Yes I will dangle your bed sheet lad, on one condition."

"Anything."

"Answer my earlier question," He paused and smiled wickedly, "is Hephaistion as skilled in bed as these eunuchs?"

Alexander laughed. "Hephaistion and I, to be frank with you Parminion, know one another's bodies well. We have had years to study each other. No eunuch, no matter what Persian tricks they might use, can get around that sort of love, that sort of devotion. Our love and our coupling transcend the normal bounds of pleasure."

"Is he violent sometimes Alexander and who tops who?" He asked with a sly grin across his face.

That raised Alexander's hackles. "Why! You overstep your manners Parminion. I will order it should I have too."

"No, I'll show the sheet. No reason really, just a curiosity; you know good and bad, hot and cold, gentle and well not so gentle. He has reason not be…I wouldn't blame him. I've just always wondered. I see a certain subdued cruelty in his eyes at times. You know the son follows in his father's ways…"

Alexander set down his cup and confronted Parminion. "Do not toy with me, old man! Not about this. What is your point?"

"So he's never told you?" Parminion would see that he set his barb deep in Alexander's heart. Yes he'd play his part in the ritual but he'd have his fun as well.

"What?" Alexander's heart plummeted and then began to pound in his chest like a war drum.

"The dungeons, when you were away. Your father and Attalus and that Gorgias bastard. No, he wouldn't have told you, would he?"

Alexander closed his eyes, looked to the heavens and prepared himself for the whole truth. "They raped him. I thought as much, but I've always hoped against hope that..." He watched the play of emotions across Parminion's face. "They raped him and told him I was dead. Did you see it! Did you!" Tears streamed down his cheeks.

Parminion stepped forward and grasped his shoulders. "Yes, my good friend, they raped him. We raped him; in the most brutal of ways. Yes, I was forced to watch. I was also forced…forced to participate. Forced Alexander I did not agree with any of it. Yes, I raped him, Alexander, right along with Philip and Attalus and Crateros. With Polyperchon. Cleitus, Antipitar and Pausinias. Philip wanted us all equally guilty in his ravaging of him. He knew that he needed 'you' lad. Attalus had twisted him, Alexander. Philip was drunk day and night after you left so he was easy prey. Philip ordered us to be complicit in Hephaistion's abuse. He knew that you and Hephaistion were hopelessly tied to each other. He thought that if you hated us all for hurting your lover you would never seek to align your self with any us and use that power against him. I…"

"Enough!" Alexander paced the floor. "I understand the politics of it Parminion! No, he never told me… but I… knew. I felt it. He did not tell me all of it. The sheet yes or no?"

"Yes of course, I hope I've been …"

"Do not miss doing your duty, Parminion an archer will have your heart in his sights. Ready yourself, the time approaches!"

Alexander set his cup down, pulled his robe up over his head and left the old general's room. The sky was beginning to pink as the sun slipped up but Alexander didn't notice it. Once he was away from any prying eyes he vomited. Visions of Hephaistion being ravaged by his father's old guard played across his mind. 'Pausinias even' he threw up again. He'd kill them all if he could and revel in his vengeance. Empty, he made his way back to his rooms to ready himself for the coming ceremony.


	12. Chapter 12

Title: What Price Fury

Rating: PG for now.

Fandom: Stones movie

Summery: Not For the first time in their relationship Hephaistion is a victim of Alexander's wrathful temper. Mitigating issues play a part weakening the faithful General's defenses causing him to retaliate and havoc ensues before the two can reunite. I can't help but feel as though these two had there fair share of brawls. Egos aside…besides Hephaistion's got other things on his mind.

Genre: Anger and angst and reconciliation

Warning: Implied rape and sexual brutality. It's there because I couldn't see the scenario honestly with out it. That would have been a manufactured environment.

Reviews: Please send advice to and thanks!

Disclaimer: Mr. Stone for this one, he brought them to life so we can torment them! Not purely movie driven I tweaked it a bit.

Thanks: To everyone who awaits updates to this tale and all who provide encouragement. Once again I thought that this chapter would lean toward a conclusion but it seems instead to have opened up the thing to more stuff…we'll just have to see where it goes. Do not despair. Leave that to me…. . Ahhhh…what else…..I could keep going over it trying to edit all my punctuation glitches and what not but…since I stink at that lets just try and post the damn thing!

Chapter 12

Hephaistion awoke slowly with a feeling of unease. His stomach was jittery and his head throbbed a bit from his planned yet foolish consumption of too much wine the night before. Once the wedding had been completed it had taken only a matter of days for Alexander to fall back into his normal superhuman pace. War councils were being held three times daily, scouting parties had been tripled, spies had been re-dispatched far and wide and Hephaistion had been given no quarter when it came to reassuming his varied and multiple duties. The tired general had worked through the night on three of the previous five days only napping briefly. This had been his first chance to truly sleep all night and he used the free flowing wine to make sure that he did.

The groggy man stumbled from his bed and wandered to his chamber pot. He pissed with a low groan and arched backwards stretching sleep stiffened muscles. Then wiping the remaining sleep from his blue eyes he threw on a heavy robe, roused a sleepy Milos, asked him to fetch a hot breakfast and headed for the door. Again a sense of unease assailed him and he stopped in his tracks. Returning to his weapons rack he belted on his sword and made his way out of the fortress. Hephaistion was mostly ignored by the servants and slaves wandering about the dimly lit hallways. The posted sentries gave him his proper salute but no words were spoken. Just as he reached the exit he was stopped by Nearchus. They spoke briefly and planned to meet later in the day for a sparring match. Hephaistion had been out of commission for a while and Alexander had ordered Nearchus to whip the young man back into fighting shape. Hephaistion had reluctantly agreed, and was now regretting the decision. Nearchus, while not a tall man, was a thick brutish fighter and he was giving Hephaistion fits. He also, although the two were fast friends, seemed to have taken a twisted relish in tormenting the younger general, making keen sport of him. They parted and Hephaistion cursed his sour luck. He'd hoped to avoid the daily exercise and get a bit more work done on his bridge designs.

The morning air was cold and the brisk wind blowing down off the mountains whipped his long hair around his face. Hephaistion hunkered down in his furs and headed for the command tent. He needed some maps to complete one of Alexander's many assignments and planned on studying them over breakfast. Now was the best time to procure them. The command tent would be empty, so he did not have to concern himself with running into any rivals. As he crossed the courtyard he was surprised to see Alexander exiting the billowing structure. The king was still dressed in morning clothes and a heavy robe. It was not often that the two could see one another outside of council meetings and crowded banquets so Hephaistion quickened his step, in hopes of having at least a few cherished moments to chat with his companion. As he walked he noticed a page exiting the tent with a cup of wine. Before he could give the drink to Alexander the king saw Hephaistion and began to walk toward him. The boy was forced to follow along bearing the warmed beverage.

"Hephaistion!" Alexander beamed. The broad smile cheered the groggy general and he stepped forward and into Alexander's outstretched arms. The two men embraced tightly and parted. "

"Alexander, working so early, and after the night you had last night?"

Alexander chuckled and pushed a bit of Hephaistion's wind tangled hair behind his right ear. Then grinned as the mountain breeze tore it free again. Hephaistion shrugged and smiled. "For you, my King. It is you who loves it long. Is it not." He bowed mockingly and was rewarded wit a swat on his ass.

"Aye, it is. But you know I love and appreciate all the tortures that you suffer for me Hephaistion. Are my sketches done yet? And my supply figures. How about the trail heads between here and the south road. Or, General Hephaistion, have you been too busy growing and primping this hair of yours." They laughed, and Alexander couldn't help the flood of relief that he felt. Was it possible that he had his Hephaistion back? "Yes. To answer your question. The eastern spies brought me word of Bessus during the banquet. I spent the night planning some raids on outlieing settlements. We will discuss them later at the morning council." The wind blustered and Hephaistion pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. "Gods, Hephaistion! Your frozen, man." He turned and took the large ceramic cup from the boy and handed it to his friend. "Here, it will warm you. I've a belly full already. Drink up now. For the life of me I don't know why you are always so chilled."

"Yes, chilled. Thanks. It's always cold here it seems. Never really gets warm." He held the cup between his palms and relished in the warmth it provided. Finally, his hands warmer, he raised it to his lips and took a large sip.

Alexander having seen Hephaistion drink turned to the page intending to order a cup for himself. He was stunned when the boy dropped to his knees his face a mask of pure terror. Alexander acted instinctively and backhanded the cup from Hephaistion's mouth. Before Hephaistion could respond, Alexander struck him forcefully between his shoulder blades causing him to cough up the liquid in his mouth, he then grabbed the confused general by the back of his head and rammed three fingers down the man's throat causing him to retch and drop to his knees. He repeated the action as he called for guards and ordered the area sealed off.

The guard ran up as he made Hephaistion vomit a fourth time. "Arrest him; put him under guard, no harm will come to him! Not yet!" The armed men yanked the boy to his feet.

"Alexander!"

"No. Don't speak! Hephaistion, swallow? Did-you-swallow!" He shook him by his shoulders. "Tell me! Ah Gods!" He looked to the pinking sky "Did you swallow? Poison! It was poisoned!"

"No. Don't think so." He rasped before spitting and grimaced at the taste of bile in his mouth. The thought of poison caused him to throw up again, dry heaves wracked his shivering frame. "Not a lot, if any. Up. I want up."

"Send my physician to my rooms! Call the…" Was all he got out as Hephaistion drove past him in a blind rage. "Hephaistion, no!"

The young man rammed the hilt of his sword into the pages gut full force. Crushing his ribs and dropping him to his knees. Before the guard could drag him away he slammed it down into the page's face breaking the boy's jaw. "Who? Who sent you? Tell or by the gods I will flay you alive you…." He continued to scream as strong hands pulled him back. Alexander blanched and screamed out his name as Hephaistion doubled over in obvious pain and also fell to knees.

"My rooms now, with haste! If he dies on the way It will be your heads!"

Alexander swiped a hand through his tangled mop of hair and turned in a circle. Rare was the occasion that he found himself at a loss concerning how to react. Cleitus rushed forward and handed him his Kopis and dagger.

"The camp is sealed. No one in or out. You need to don armor, Alexander. We don't know how big the threat is. The boy will be taken to the command tent and the rest of his watch is being rounded up now."

"Good." He tried to concentrate. Someone had tried to kill him. One of his own boys was involved, implying that it was Macedonian plot and not Persian.. Hephaistion could be dying. "Gather the men. Full armor. Call out all companions. Sound a full alert. As soon as everyone is armed and dressed. We will convene in the command tent. Double the guard there. And Cleitus," he grabbed the older man by the elbow. "The boys, I do not want them touched until I speak with them. My order. Now I must dress and see to Hephaistion." He waved a hand and was immediately surrounded by his personal guard. It was not lost to him that at his right hand where Hephaistion should be, Perdicass marched. The two made eye contact and the handsome blonde reached out and squeezed the king's shoulder.


	13. Chapter 13

Title: What Price Fury

Rating: PG for now.

Fandom: Stones movie

Summery: Not For the first time in their relationship Hephaistion is a victim of Alexander's wrathful temper. Mitigating issues play a part weakening the faithful General's defenses causing him to retaliate and havoc ensues before the two can reunite. I can't help but feel as though these two had there fair share of brawls. Egos aside…besides Hephaistion's got other things on his mind.

Genre: Anger and angst and reconciliation

Warning: Implied rape and sexual brutality. It's there because I couldn't see the scenario honestly with out it. That would have been a manufactured environment.

Reviews: Please send advice to and thanks!

Disclaimer: Mr. Stone for this one, he brought them to life so we can torment them! Not purely movie driven I tweaked it a bit.

Thanks: To everyone who awaits updates to this tale and all who provide encouragement. Once again I thought that this chapter would lean toward a conclusion but it seems instead to have opened up the thing to more stuff…we'll just have to see where it goes. Do not despair. Leave that to me…. . Ahhhh…what else…..I could keep going over it trying to edit all my punctuation glitches and what not but…since I stink at that lets just try and post the damn thing!

Chapter 13

Alexander's quarters were in complete chaos when he arrived. Hephaistion could be heard bellowing out of pain and fury from down the hallway. Alexander charged into the room just as the angry general punched the physician sending him unconscious to the timber floor. The king dove into the fray. Hephaistion doggedly fought to exit the room only slowed by bouts of agonizing stomach cramps. He yelled for Alexander and his weapons as he raged against the many strong arms attempting hold him down.

"He won't see reason, Alexander!" Nearchus hollered as he dodged a blow. "He needs the medicine to purge the poison from his system. Now the doctor's down! Gods, you little Athenian bastard, be still boy! Hephaistion, be still!" The Cretan ordered as he tried to restrain Hephaistion's left leg.

With that Hephaistion screamed as if he'd been impaled and tried to clutch at his mid-section but strong arms held him in check. "I will kill the man who did this. I will flay him alive with my own hands and eat out his heart!" Then in an instant, seemingly spent he finally collapsed into the arms of the four guards holding him.

"Get him on my bed! Send for another doctor! Bring me the medicine!" Alexander gave the commands with a certainty born from leading men for a lifetime. What ever uncertainty had assailed him earlier had been replaced with a sureness and calmness that immediately eased the tension in the room. In his own mind he was anything but calm.

Medicine in hand he sat on the edge of the bed. Hephaistion was pale, sweating and short of breath. Alexander read not just pain in the man's eyes but hatred and terror.

"Not like this! Alexander. Won't die like this!" His body arched as another spasm shot through it. "I will live to…" Another wave of pain silenced him. "to see these men dead by my hand…Patroclus'…hand! Arrrrgh…!

"Here, Hephaistion. Drink." The sick man shook his head no. "You must. It is safe. I have made certain of it. Drink." Still he refused. "Perdicass, take his head. Hold him now. Hold him! Gods, Hephaistion do not fight me!" He handed the draught to Nearchus. "Hold it firmly Perdicass, tip it back. Why make me treat you like a sick hound, my love. Farther, Perdicass, like giving medicine to a dog. That's it. Keep his legs and arms pinned men!"

Alexander placed his huge hands on either side of Hephaistion's face and pressed his thumbs forcefully into the squirming man's jaw bone joint. At the same time he pushed downward with the heel of his hands on Hephaistion's lower jaw effectively prying it open.

"Now, Nearchus! Quickly; then hold his nose!" Gray eyes burned into crystal blue as Alexander willed Hephaistion to swallow. "Swallow you stubborn sow of a man! Swallow or by the gods it's you who'll be flayed!" He grabbed the top of Hephaistion's head by his bronze colored hair pulling it towards himself; at the same time he jammed his right hand beneath the sick man's chin and pushed in the opposite direction forcing the writhing man's mouth shut. "Rub his throat Nearchus! He has to swallow."

Nearchus nodded when he felt Hephaistion swallow. "Again, Alexander!" The three men repeated the exercise until the draught was gone.

"Damn all of you!" Hephaistion spat. "Let up let me up! You'll not kill me today!" Hephaistion demanded but the excruciating pain in his gut sent him into uncontrollable spasms yet again. "'Xander…" Was all he could mutter as he fell back a limp pile of muscles onto the bed.

"The doctor has been revived, Alexander." Perdicass said quietly in his ear.

"Send him in here. Hephaistion, hear me out. Easy man, just let the draught work. Be still. Promise me. If you struggle the poison works faster, love."

"People…Xan…not 'love'…general Heph…."

"It's alright. Rest." He stood and moved off to talk with the doctor as Hephaistion's body again succumbed to spasms of pain. The sound of his friends cry of pain froze his heart.

The physician was dazed but able to talk. "I don't think he got much Alexander, or he'd be gone already. He will be sick as a dog for short time though. The draught will help. I want him awake, I fear if he sleeps I might miss a worsening of his condition. The pain will be brutal but it is necessary. I am so sorry."

"Take good care of him. You life depends on it, Leander."

"Alexander, you must dress and go." Perdicass stood holding Alexander's cuirass. "There are urgent matters…"

"Hephaistion is the only urgent matter just now, Perdicass. Give me some time with him. Clear this room. Leave my armor and Milos only. He will attend me."

"Milos, Alexander. The boys are all suspect…"

"Not Milos; bring him immediately!"

Perdicass cleared the room and conferred with Cleitus. A double guard was posted outside the rooms and Milos was brought in. The boy was terrified. He'd been dragged in with the other boys in Alexander's rotation due to his closeness to Hephaistion. Alexander ordered him to prepare his armor and again went to Hephaistion's bedside. He motioned the doctor to give them privacy and once the heavy door was closed he took Hephaistion's shaking hands in his.

"You look awful." He said trying to lighten the mood and ease his own terrified soul.

"Get me up! Damn it, Alexander!" His voice was not much more than a ragged whisper. The painful spasms having sapped the strength from his stout body. "Must…attend meeting. Can't disappoint. Can't let them see me weak again. Can't….Oh! by the infernal gods of all that's dark, Alexander it hurts! It fucking hurts. My guts are being ripped from me. I'll repay this…"

"Hang on, my Hephaistion. You did not get enough poison to die, but you will be sick for a short time. We don't want you to sleep, we might miss it if you take a bad turn. Please try and bear up. Please. No tears, be they from anger or not. I know the pain of poison, love…just hang on. Milos will be with you. I have to go and see to matters. Hephaistion, you must get past this."

"Promise me, Alexander." Hephaistion hissed through gritted teeth. "Promise me this bastard will be mine to play with. I will get the truth. I…"

"There is no need for you to sully yourself so. Hephaistion, we've men for this. You…"

"Promise me!" It was a guttural plea wrenched from a pain torn soul. Hephaistion raised himself up on his elbows and stared into Alexander's eyes. "Say it! He is mine! Mine, Alexander! I…arghhhh! I need no man to help me with this. I am more than capable of met….gods it hurts. Meting out my will…I know how to cause pain, Alexander, you know this!" He fell back onto the pillows.

Alexander wiped his head with the cool cloth that the doctor had left on the bedside table and spoke quietly to the man he loved more than any other. "I do, Hephaistion. I do and I pray daily to the gods that your life had not taught you such fiendish lessons. I wish that were not the case, because I hate that part of you! Rest…"

"Promise! Hate what you will, just promise me…" He grabbed Alexander's hand and drew it to his chest and placed it over his heart. "As long as this heart of mine beats, my vengeance alone will render any enemy of yours dead. Your- life- is -mine…" he winced in pain, "Patroclus'. Patroclus' alone. My Achilles, promise me!"

At the mention of their idols Alexander faltered. "You have my word." He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Hephaistion's; unbidden tears streaming down his stubble coarsened cheeks. "My sworn word." The heat burning there did little to ease his mind. The man's skin was scalding hot. He sniffled back tears and put on his best stern face. "You must get well first! Torture's no fun with a belly full of pain! So, from now on, please do as Milos orders and 'only' Milos. The doctor's orders will come through him. He is not to attend you alone without Milos at his side. Rest love. I will see you soon"

"Love. Really, Alexander, you mustn't… call me that in mixed…. company." He muttered softly without very much conviction.

Alexander smiled down at him. Now that Hephaistion had his promise of revenge, he was letting his exhaustion take over. His broad chest heaved in exertion, every breath a jarring stab of pain. Hephaistion's voice was now thin and weak. Childlike. Alexander knew though that once that child was well, the man within would effectively and brutally exact his blood lust upon the perpetrators involved in the assassination attempt. He hated that side of Hephaistion. As a king he slew thousands, he ordered executions, he made life and death decisions everyday. But Hephaistion, he relished the brutality of punishment far more than Alexander had ever been comfortable with, far more than any of the other companions.

"Rest. Milos!"

"Yes, Alexander."

"Is my armor ready?" He asked still dabbing at Hephaistion's cheeks and neck.

"Yes, my lord."

"I must go, love. But never, never again, Hephaistion, will I leave you in your time of need. I promise you." He bent forward and placed a soft, lingering kiss on Hephaistion's cracked lips. "Never, my love. Never." He tore himself from the sick man's gaze and ordered Milos into the other room to dress him.

"You are not to leave his side, boy, do you understand me, Milos?"

"Yes, my lord."

"The doctor is not to administer to him alone. Do you understand, boy?"

"Yes, my lord."

Alexander cinched up his belt and sheathed his sword. He made for the door. "One more order, Milos. You are to love him and care for him as I would. No different. Do you understand, my trusted friend?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Explain your duties to me in this matter Milos." Alexander watched as the boy pulled himself up to his full height and stood proudly before his king, with black eyes blazing.

"Forgive me my impertinance my good…no, Alexander. But in this matter, I too am Alexander." He bowed very low and gazed bravely into Alexander's silver eyes after he stood. The sincerity of the lad's response stunned and filled him with pride. Hephaistion had trained the boy well.

Alexander stepped out of the room and into the encircling ring of companions with a renewed sense of well being. Milos would indeed watch over his treasure. He put his concern aside and focused forward to the sad task at hand. Finding the traitors involved in the attempt on his life. His father's words echoed round and round in his mind. To be a king means that you must be able to hurt the ones you love. "So," he said quietly, not quite to himself, "Father, you were right, it has finally come to just that."

"Excuse me, Alexander?" Philotas asked. He was walking on Alexander's left.

"Just recalling some advice my father once gave me good, Philotas. Let us both hope that you are not on the receiving end of it."


	14. Chapter 14

Title: What Price Fury

Author: Rothalion

Summary: Hmm. After a dreadful deed Alexander and Hephaistion deal with the reality of Kingship. I guess.

Rating: Lets go with PG-13

Disclaimer: Well, there's a bit of movie verse and a bit of history so…I don't own them regardless. Thanks Mr. Stone and thanks to history sort of as it's not been kind to Hephaistion.

Chapter 14

Aftermath

Alexander entered Hephaistion's room silently, without knocking. He'd grown increasingly concerned for his friend through out the long and bloody miserable day and finally, now that the vile deed was completed, he'd heeded his concern, set his fear aside and gone to check on him.

Hephaistion stood, armor removed clad only in his chiton, with his back to the door. Alexander wondered if the man could have reacted in time had he been an enemy and not a friend. Could Hephaistion have turned in time to repel the blow. Shuddering at the thought of his lover failing, he stood quietly and watched as Hephaistion scrubbed at his hands and arms over a basin of water. The man mumbled quiet, angry words but the king could not make them out. He flinched, shocked from his reverie, when Hephaistion hollered for Milos and demanded a fresh basin of hot water. Alexander had never heard the general raise his voice to the young page and he felt sad when Milos cowered at that strangeness of his master's tone. The boy then gave away Alexander's presence with a quick glance toward the door and a curt bow. Embarrassed he scurried out the door to complete his task. Hephaistion read the boys eyes and a vicious growl, like that of a wounded lion, surged from his gut.

As Hephaistion turned to face his king, he tore his blood stained and stiffened chiton off and threw it violently into a corner. Alexander was shocked at the vehemence he saw in Hephaistion's clear blue eyes. He cringed as Hephaistion snorted a cruel laugh at him and then stalked naked to the wine cabinet. He downed the remainder of his cup and then refilled it as well as one for Alexander. With his face shrouded in a mask of pure hate he walked to where Alexander stood and handed him the drink. Alexander knew that Hephaistion could read in his eyes his distaste for the man's joy at torturing the traitors. There was no point in trying to hide it.

Alexander drank without taking his eyes off Hephaistion. He grimaced at the taste. It was unexpectedly unmixed. Hephaistion rarely drank unmixed wine, let alone guzzled it as he was doing now. The rage in Hephaistion's eyes was pure and scalding. Alexander wilted in its glare despite the fact that it was not entirely aimed at him. Never, not even in the heat of battle, had he encountered such fury in his beloved. Not in all the years that they had been together. Hephaistion's whole being radiated hate. Radiated anger and did so with a ferocity unmatched, Alexander thought, by any other force in the universe. It terrified him to be bathed in such anger. It terrified him to know that the man he loved so much who loved him unconditionally in return was capable of such blood lust. Milos returned with the basin and Hephaistion walked away and resumed his sponge bath without uttering a word.

Alexander watched him from across the room. He marveled at the strong lines of Hephaistion's back and shoulders and grimaced at the scars, caused by both of their fathers, that crisscrossed the bronze expanse of flesh. He knew them all, each and every one of them. Amyntor's mark of discipline tangled with Philip's redundant cruelty. Too many ribbons of pain. Amyntor wanted his son to be strong and Philip had wanted to make a point. A point that Hephaistion had paid dearly for, nearly dying from the vicious abuse. An abuse Alexander now knew was actually a second punishment for the same transgression. In repentance, Alexander had committed the scars to memory. For years he'd stroked and rubbed them, so that he knew the old wounds as if they were his own. Years of lovingly caressing the heinous reminders of his arrogance had etched the pink, angry welts upon his memory and on his calloused finger tips. Caresses that tried in vain to suck away the horrible agony that Hephaistion must have endured when he received the vicious beatings. Caresses he wished could leech the pain away from his companion and make Hephaistion's agony his own instead. Allow him to share in Hephaistion's punishment.

Hephaistion's blue eyes had blazed that day so long ago now, but not with the same ferocity. Not like this. They had blazed and burned brightly as Hephaistion charged forward to defend his Alexander against the words and actions of Attalus at the wedding party. Then later, when they'd returned to Pella with a promise of safety and forgiveness, the betrayed young men were forced to watch as Hephaistion, alone, bore the punishment for all of them. A public punishment, Philip having already had his own secret, private fun with, Hephaistion. His blue eyes had flared with a brilliant light; never dimming as Attalus, a smile as wide as the horizon, pulling his leering face into a sickly mask of cruelty, tore into Hephaistion's flesh over and over again with the multi-strand, metal spur tipped whip. But this new fury fueled light, this was different; this light screamed of an anger far beyond rational hate. This was the anger of a man hardened by the trials of his short life and made unrepentant about his actions. A man who'd seen his closest friend and lover snatched from the brink of death by a quirk of fate. A man who had tasted his own death in a sip of wine meant for his beloved. War had changed Alexander's Hephaistion, had changed them all; but never before had the changes been so clearly and agonizingly shown to the king then now.

Alexander walked over and stood beside his friend. As he washed Hephaistion continued to grumble. Alexander noted the tautness of his jaw and flinched as he watched Hephaistion grind his teeth. The man was trembling and his skin was covered in fine goose bumps. Alexander knew that every nerve in Hephaistion's body was on the ready; just waiting for a reason to unleash this unbridled fury now bound in his normally gentle soul. Unable to just stand still and watch Hephaistion suffer, he reached out and touched his lover's shoulder.

In a flash Hephaistion had him, in his left hand, by the throat. Alexander never had a chance. The big man had reacted with a quickness that should not have been possible in a mortal being. Alexander tried to turn his head in a feeble attempt to remove the crushing grip of Hephaistion's hand from his airway and onto the thick muscles of his neck. He failed. He watched through bulging eyes as Hephaistion gasped for breath. Greedily sucking in the very air he himself so desperately needed. He watched in muted horror as his Hephaistion's scarred, broad chest heaved. He stared into his blue eyes, stretched wide with terror, hurt and anger all now so mixed and so intertwined that he could no longer separate the three. He saw in a detached and dreamy light, Milos standing not far off, his eyes wide with fright and the next basin of hot water smashed at his feet where he dropped it. Alexander couldn't react, he was frozen in indecision. He couldn't bring himself to hurt Hephaistion enough to gain his freedom, to earn a breath. He heard Milos then, but the boy's voice was so distant.

"Please, my Lord Hephaistion, Hephaistion, oh my dear Hephaistion, please let him go. Lord, my gentle sweet lord, he is blue. By the gods Phaistion please…"

Hephaistion released Alexander with a push as if to get him as far away as possible. The king dropped to his knees sucking in gulps of air, trying to restore his mind's clarity. Hephaistion stood, looming over him, still shaking, still on edge but the impact of what he had just done was slowly negating the memory of the day's earlier events. Slowly changing the focus of his despair. Alexander was here to scold him. Once again he would not be thanked for his love.

"More water Milos, quickly!" Hephaistion snapped. "And you, Alexander, what is it you want? I am in no mood for your condemnation just now!" Not waiting for a reply he turned, walked away and poured himself more wine.

Alexander stood and rubbed at his throat. It would be black and blue he knew, and that would have to be explained. He retrieved his flagon from the floor and joined Hephaistion at the wine cabinet.

"Just…" His voice was strained from the crushing abuse of Hephaistion's attack. "Wanted to check on you." He poured his wine and tried to look into his friend's eyes.

"Check on me? Check on me. I'm fine. Did you expect otherwise?"

"Well, today was…well…difficult. I just thought maybe…"

"Maybe what?"

Alexander shrugged, took a long pull of wine and answered. "Maybe you might want some company, some comfort."

"Humph! I'm fine! damned fine. Think that little bit of torture bothers me? Are you mad Alexander? I can read it in your eyes that you are repulsed that I enjoyed it. So why concern yourself? Shit, I wish he'd lasted longer. All of them. Wish I was still out there knee damn deep in their traitorous blood exacting out my vengeance. I wish that you'd sent me to do Parminion too, because I'd carry his treasonous son's head to him on fucking spear and serve him the bastard's lying tongue for dinner." He poured another full cup of wine and began laughing maniacally. "Bothered? You seem to have forgotten who '_I'_ am Alexander. I wear many hats. Hephaistion the whore, Hephaistion the sycophant, Hephaistion the lame, Hephaistion the king's queen, his lover, gentle Hephaistion lover of apples and horses, don't forget Hephaistion the cruel. I saw that smeared on a wall in Tyre in some dead man's blood. '_Hephaistion the cruel, slayer of babes'_. Do you think I stopped and cried over it? Hephaistion slayer of rats and treasonous boys. Slayer of women and babies. Remember that little village south of Tyre. How many did you have me flay alive and burn as a warning to Tyre when I failed to talk our way in. Some punishment that was Alexander. I loved it. The screaming, the smell, the begging. And you fucking wonder what haunts my dreams. Not that I did it, Alexander, but that I '_could_' do it. After all, I did it for you. I had a grand and god given reason. Out of love. But now…No I still don't regret it as much as I should.

Trust me, the torture of Philotas will not wake me from my slumber. The torture of the boys will not. The death of Parminion will not! The only thing that I will take to my pillow tonight is the memory of all the things I had planned for them that I did not get to do because they gave up too soon and died! So to answer your question, yes, I am fucking fine.

As fine as I can be after seeing the only man, in this entire miserable world, that I love nearly killed. As fine as I can be after giving him to his bride. As fine as I can be after catching him in bed fucking a Persian spoil of war the night before the wedding when he should have been with me, guilt bred concern aside. As fine as I can be after having nearly died myself! Milos, where is my god damned hot water!"

"Stop yelling at him, Hephaistion. He's done nothing to deserve it." Alexander said softly.

"Hasn't he?" Hephaistion spat out. "He's young and unburdened by the bloodbath that our lives have become. Remember what it was like to be young and have clean hands, Alexander? I do." He grabbed Alexander's pendant and pulled the king forward by it. "Before this. Before we slew 300 of the finest men to ever call themselves soldiers, before we bathed that meadow in blood so brave and pure that it was fit only to taken by the gods. Are we gods Alexander? Can you remember _us_, Alexander. Mourn for them, and for _us,_ I do! For Philotas and the boys and Parminion, never. I loved every moment of it. I can still taste Philotas' blood on my lips. It's a bitter, repugnant, cowardly taste, not sweet and full of love and courage and honor like that which I tasted on the lips a dying Sacred Band soldier. Yes, he was near dead his companion clutched to his ripped apart chest and in my sorrow and despair over what we had done, I knelt in the gore of his guts and kissed his lips. I inhaled his last breath, Alexander, then I kissed his dying companion's lips and inhaled his; joining them within my soul one last time. They haunt my dreams; calling for me to come to them. For them I weep and weep and weep. It seems that for them, I cannot stop weeping.

I've been killing things for as long as I can remember Alexander. My father made me slaughter the first horse he gave me because I forgot to feed him one evening and a groom reported me. I cut its throat, then was beaten for crying and not making a clean kill. He was a beautiful dapple colt…I helped birth him. Four snow white socks. Two weeks later I killed the groom. Cut out his tongue, cut off his fingers and toes, cut his throat and tossed him in a ravine. I was nine. It was a clean kill.

You taught me best of all though Alexander. You taught me how to rationalize the bloodshed. In the name of the gods and advancing this '_expedition_'. Only for the innocent and the truly brave do I despair. For any that threaten you, or your dream…be they men, women, children or gods, I have naught but hate."

"I wonder sometimes when you speak such murderous words that I can love you at all, Hephaistion. I do kill my enemies but I have never and will never hate them. All soldiers kill. But I do not relish in brutality the way that you do. It is the only thing in the world that truly frightens me, this blood lust of yours. You pour hot pitch into ears and eyes. You castrate rapists by pounding their balls with a mallet. You flog and drag men who treat horses cruelly, you seem to have no sense of the suffering you so gladly, so easily inflict…I worry that you will become lost to me…no longer capable of tenderness, love or gentleness and it is that part of you I love the most. Hephaistion?"

Hephaistion still clutched Alexander's pendant in his right fist. The worried king reached up and wrapped his hand around Hephaistion's wrist. They stood for a long moment eyes locked together, neither willing to move. Alexander was searching for some word, or gesture that would turn off the flow of hate in his lover, somehow get the man to become gentle again, to help him forget his hate. Hephaistion's lips were trembling. His blue eyes, filled with angry tears and became glassy. He furrowed his brow and studied Alexander. He hadn't boasted or lied about how much he'd enjoyed torturing the traitors, or killing the Tyrians. He knew he felt a certain rush of desire when he made things suffer. But now, finally, truly seeing the amount of pain and suffering this weakness caused Alexander staggered him. Confused him. He couldn't imagine being so vile that Alexander would question his love for him and that is exactly what the king had just admitted to. His first instinct was to respond angrily and defensively. After all he'd done all those things '_for_' Alexander! He spat in his companion's face and tore his hand free.

"Fuck you, you selfish bastard. Can't love me the way I am then to hell with you, Alexander. Xenos is three days ride from here. I don't need your judgmental horseshit. Go fuck your wife, your eunuch and new kingdom, I'll go and play with Xenos' flute. Unlike you, he expects nothing from me; only that '_I_' am happy." He turned and once again began to bathe in the fresh water Milos had discretely placed on the table.

Alexander stood, pinching the bridge of his nose and watched him once again. When Milos tried to come back into the room he waved the boy off for the night. He was not leaving until Hephaistion's anger had been diffused. Be by fists or fucking or both Alexander was resigned to seeing it done.

While Hephaistion attempted to wash away the stains from the day's events Alexander stoked the brazier, lit some lamps and dug through Hephaistion's disorderly heap of clothes in search of a clean chiton. He wondered how Milos tolerated his master's messy habits. Hephaistion's lack of organization when it came to his quarters had always driven Alexander crazy. Finding none he chose a robe of Persian make and a warm fur wrap. Hephaistion and him might be at odds but Alexander knew the man would be chilled after washing. He returned with the items just as Hephaistion was drying his face on a towel.

"You need a proper bath, my love, why not allow me to assist you?"

"Love me again so soon, ehh?" He turned and snatched the robe from Alexander.

"Look, Hephaistion…"

"I'll be riding out in the morning. You know where Xenos' lumber camp is; find me there if you need anything. Good night, Alexander."

"Hephaistion, I really can't spare you just now. The bridges and the trailheads… I have a supply list to fill so long the scroll could stretch back to Babylon…"

"Like I said, Xenos expects nothing from me."

"I can order you to stay. I will order you to stay. I am ordering you not to leave this camp, Hephaistion." All the command lacked was for Alexander to stamp his feet.

"And I can disobey it and choose to suffer the flogging you'll be forced to mete out as punishment." He poured more wine for them both Alexander noted, was this an opening, and continued. "I don't take orders from petulant children, Alexander. That is how you are behaving. Flogging, that I might even enjoy. How long has it been since I had a good flogging? Turns me on a bit, you know." He grinned a wicked grin. "You and that Persian pet of yours should try it. Or maybe you already have."

"Why in the name of the gods are we at odds over this!" Now Alexander was angry. "For weeks we have battled with one another Hephaistion. Battled and called truces and battled again! I am tired of it. I show you my concern, my love and you berate me for it. Hephaistion…"

"And I show you mine and you threaten to cast me away, for my ability to do so!"

"Hephaistion, by the gods what man, what do you want from me?"

That stopped the pacing general in his tracks. Finally the question he'd been waiting for. 'Hephaistion, what do you want from me?' .

He turned and stepped close to Alexander, his eyes again full of unbidden, unshed tears. He shook his head and pierced his lips together. "I '_am_' leaving in the morning, flog me if you will. Want? I don't know anymore, Alexander. Maybe to return to a quieter time. Maybe to move forward into a noisier time. Maybe to see tears of your love for me welling in your eyes and to bask in that love for more the a stolen heartbeat here and there; like that night on our balcony in Babylon or the night I gave you the ring. Maybe to know that you will never again bed that foul eunuch. Talk about wanting to hurt something…keep him away from me, Alexander. I can make you no promises for his safety!

Want? I think I have forgotten how to want for myself, Alexander, simply forgotten. I am too used to wanting for you and killing myself to full fill it.

I got what _I_ wanted today. Vengeance against the ones who dared to try and take you from me. Yes, for that I was happy. Yet you couldn't let me relish in it, you threatened me with your love. Want…By the gods, my beloved, I simply have no clue anymore. And the only thing I want right now, is standing an arms length away, but he may as well be back home in Pella, because I just can't seem to reach him anymore. I just can't seem to find a way back into his world."

"I am right here, Hephaistion! What stills your hand, just reach out…I am right here."

Hephaistion studied him. Then he reached down and took Alexander's left hand in his and rubbed his thumb over the amber stone. "Like I said in Babylon, 'You are everything I care for in this world.', and I meant every word that I spoke the night I gave you this ring. You are my sun. But lately, well for a while now that brightness, your brightness only seems to blind me. To sear my heart.

I Guess I just want you to thank me, Alexander. A fools desire yes, and selfish, but still I desire it. Just say 'Hephaistion, thank you for clearing away my enemies, thank you for loving me enough to suffer the task, thank you for being you. Thank you for the endless hours you toil away to make my dream a reality, thank you my beloved.' Instead, today, you judged me and threaten to renege your love. You have always known who and what I am. My brutality is not new to you. It is a tool you have used many times over the years yet now you would begrudge me it. Maybe you grow as weary of that part of me as I do to trying to keep up with all that you bid me to do and never hearing a kind word for my achievements from you or anyone else. Petty, yes…I am sorry…I…Alexander, this is about change I think…this is about, what _I_ need…What I… Goodnight." He left the thought unfinished and strode purposefully from the room.


	15. Chapter 15

Title: What Price Fury

Author: Rothalion

Summary: Hmm. After a dreadful deed Alexander and Hephaistion deal with the reality of Kingship. I guess.

Rating: Lets go with PG-13

Disclaimer: Well, there's a bit of movie verse and a bit of history so…I don't own them regardless. Thanks Mr. Stone and thanks to history sort of as it's not been kind to Hephaistion.

Chapter 15

Bridges Built and Bridges Burned

"Bring me the boy! And hurry up!" Alexander screamed at his escort waiting outside Hephaistion's chambers.

The guards scurried away to find the page. Anything was better than staying within arms reach of the furious king. Hephaistion had disobeyed his orders to remain in camp and Alexander was livid. The two men knew that Milos was in for a long day.

"Damn you, you pig headed son of a dog! When they get you back in here I'll…"

"Alexander," Cleitus interrupted him, "let it go lad. He's had a nasty run of luck, he's just tired. Let it go. Leave him be, boy. You have the power to overlook this!"

"Be? I'll let him be. I ordered him, Cleitus, not asked but ordered. If he will not follow my command then why should the men. This is about more than him and I moving in separate directions. This is more than him and I coming to terms with Roxane. This is…"

"About you being jealous of his flute playing friend. It's about you not wanting to sit back here knowing that he's being comforted by some one else's arms and being fucked by some one else's prick."

"The gods damn you Cleitus! What do you know about this, Xenos anyway? How do you know about Xenos?"

"He told me. Came to me confused and hurt."

"To you! You!" Alexander sat down at Hephaistion's desk and ran a hand through his hair. "Why by the gods _you_ of all people?"

"We're alike him and me when it comes to lovin' kings, Alexander. I loved and lost mine over and over and he loves and fears loosing his; though he'd never admit just how terrified he is."

"Love! I have had it with love." He started shoving papers around and absently reading Hephaistion's notes. "Love, does he _love_ this Xenos. He told me that he did; in his own way. What the devil does that mean? Where the hell are the guards with Milos? Confused and hurt. He can be all the confused and hurt he wants, Cleitus, but he cannot confuse the fact that I am his king and his commander. He will be punished for this."

"You are behaving like your father."

"I'll cut out your filthy tongue, Cleitus, if you ever say that to me again. Now I sound like Hephaistion. Cutting out tongues. You know he confessed to me, Cleitus, that he tortured and killed one of his father's grooms when he was only nine, because the man reported him to Amyntor that he'd forgotten to feed his new horse and Amyntor punished him by making Hephaistion kill the poor beast. I wonder if he's not a bit mad sometimes, Cleitus. I truly do. That frightens me. Look at this a stack of letters from that Xenos. Who does he think he's fooling. I have never gone behind his back and sought the comfort of another."

"True enough, Alexander. You just fuck Darius' personal eunuch right under Hephaistion's nose. The whole damn army knows you've booted Hephaistion out of your bed and taken in the Persian tart. No my king I don't suppose that our good General Hephaistion should be bothered by that."

"Cleitus you are trying my patience today. When did he leave anyway?"

"No idea. My guess is that night, after he saw you leave his room. Traveled light and he took both his quickest mounts. The camp's five days riding but traveling alone and switching horses he'll do it in a two and a half. You know him; he can sleep in the saddle better than anyone I have ever known."

"I should have checked on him. I just did not think he would ever disobey a direct order like this. He's got a three day lead on me."

"Yea, so that means Xenos has probably fucked him four times already."

Cleitus was spared a tongue lashing when the guards shoved a frightened Milos into the room. Alexander stood and approached the boy.

"Why did you not tell me that he left?"

"I was ordered to say nothing, my lord."

"And I ordered him to stay. Your failure borders on treason, Milos."

The page dropped to his knees. "Yes, my lord. I thought only of my masters well being. He needed…wanted just to go away to think. He needs to rest."

"You know that he has run off to Xenos."

"Yes, my lord, and I know too that you gave him your consent, that you said you understood and approved of their friendship. Why then are you angry now? He seeks solace in Xenos' company. 'A bit of peace', he said."

Alexander lashed out with his left foot and sent Milos sprawling across the floor. "Why you impertinent fool! What business is it of yours what I have consented to, or what I am angry about!"

"None my lord. Only that Hephaistion loves you well and he often shares his pain and trouble with me as of late. I…I wish to be flogged along with him, my lord. I would not have my master suffer alone."

"Flogged, who said you are to be flogged boy?"

"I just thought…"

"Do not pretend to know my heart Milos. Yes, your insolent master will be flogged, but you…you will have no such treatment. You will tend to his wounds afterwards. To see him suffer will be punishment enough. Had you come to me, warned me, I would have stopped him, and the flogging would be unnecessary. Go, you are dismissed."

Ten days after leaving, Hephaistion and Xenos were dragged back to the palace under guard and sequestered in Alexander's quarters. The king made the two men wait, standing at attention, while conducting a lengthily meeting with his command core trying to find a solution to the delicate issue at hand. Of all the men only Cassander wanted to see Alexander punish Hephaistion publicly. While this eased Alexander's mind and opened options for him in dealing with his loyal friend it confused him as well. It seemed as if the dynamic between not only himself and Hephaistion was rapidly changing but also between Hephaistion and the other generals. Was this a sign of burgeoning discontent? A sign that, possibly, not only Hephaistion was becoming weary of all the warring, but that the men were despairing for peace as well. Hadn't Hephaistion voiced the groups opinion concerning the continuation of the expedition to him so long ago in Babylon. Were they now sidling into the camp of the man he was soon to name his Chilliarch, second in command. His mother's words, in a letter he'd shared with his most trusted companion that same evening in Babylon, whispered a fleeting reassurance to him. 'Only Hephaistion do I leave out.' a reminder that he could trust only his childhood friend and no other man. If the generals were to actually rally around the young general's disdain for moving farther east, despite their pervasive dislike of the man, Alexander's command would be gravely jeopardized. For the first time in eleven years of friendship, the king was forced to question the loyalty of his Patroclus. It terrified him. How far would Hephaistion go to save his beloved from himself? Would he commandeer the army? Their relationship was far to fragile to cope with such an accusation, Alexander was certain such a failing in his trust would shatter their bond irrevocably.

Setting his face in as a blank an expression as possible, Alexander strode purposefully into the room, his anger and dissatisfaction with the men awaiting him was accented by the staccato slap of his boot steps. He immediately dismissed Xenos. The big Celt stood still as an ancient oak tree and left only after a curt nod from Hephaistion. The subtle display of disobedience was not lost to an already fuming Alexander. He let it go. Xenos needed no man and needed a king that much less. Of that Alexander was certain. One did not wander the earth as Xenos did from one strange land to another, fighting in whichever army suited him and harbor any great need for either kinship or leadership. He'd gladly die before giving up that freedom and Alexander was not prepared to strip Hephaistion of the brutish musician's companionship just yet.

"What do you have to say for yourself, General Hephaistion Amyntor?" The king asked as dispassionately as he could manage. He poured wine, his broad back turned to his general in a show of displeasure. He continued after receiving only silence in response. "Why do you try me so harshly as of late? Like you said, you wear many hats, many faces…along with that comes the discipline to know where one ends and the next begins. No?"

"Yes, my King." Better he thought to err on the side of formality, then to risk alienating Alexander further with unbidden intimacy.

"The men are aware of your foolish indiscretion. Your blatant disobedience. What would you have me do?"

"I am sorry, My lord."

Alexander was incredulous. "Sorry? Sorry, Hephaistion. Had this been one of the others, would you not reward their impertinence with one of your brutish punishments? Well?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"May the gods damn your stoic soul, Hephaistion! I rue the day you began to study their drivel in earnest. Yes, I had Leonidas, but it does not compare to this…this self centered, emotionally arid… what are the words I seek? Self inclusiveness. It exceeds a Spartan mind set. No. You have walled yourself off from me these last months, years really, with bricks wrought from your unflagging devotion to me and I hate it, want it to end. I want to know what _you want, you need. _ Do you wish reassignment? To return to Pella, or Babylon, to be sent away from me, discharged. Tell me how to save you from myself, Hephaistion and by the gods please stand down! I cannot bear it when this godforsaken cloak of kingship comes between us! It is never what I wanted. Never! My despicable father's warnings be damned but he spoke the truth. We do pay dearly the higher we climb, the loftier our ambition." Despite his attempt at controlling himself Alexander's voice broke and tears slipped down his cheeks. "Even so, I am not willingly to loose you in my dream, Hephaistion, not without a fight."

Hephaistion, relaxed and moved off to study the life size statue of Alexander, that Lycipus was nearly finished with. One more example of Alexander's growing fascination with his own glory. He understood the need to honor his king but he worried that the man was taking it too far. He shuddered as the memory of Philip's assassination played in his mind's eye. So bold to have added himself to the parade of gods, his own effigy rolled out with the others just moments before his trusted personal guard, Pausinias, drove a dagger into his master's armor-less chest.

Stalling for time so that he could think, he reached up and stroked the stone curls, then ran his thumb across the lips, pierced in concentration, finally he placed his hand over the heart. The stone was cold, the chest held no thrum of life. His Alexander?

"I am deeply sorry to have caused you grief with my weakness, Alexander."

"You should not have left, Hephaistion." Much more controlled now, much softer. "Makes the situation damned…difficult.

"Difficult, yes. I do not recant my words, Alexander. I feel no remorse or guilt for my actions during and after the torture and trial, only for scurrying away like some foolish, wounded child." He turned and held his arms out in submission. "Flog me if you will. I will bear it honorably as I do any hardship that comes with loving a king, loving you. Just finish it and either dismiss me from your service or allow me to get back to my bridges. My work. It is my work I love. My ability to further _your_ dream; that keeps me going. Makes me glad."

Alexander sat down at his desk and ran a trembling hand through his hair. Where had his Hephaistion gone? Where had any of them gone. What had Hephaistion asked him that night in Babylon? He smiled at the recollection. Once again his beloved's words from that long past evening were coming into play. He'd asked what Alexander feared, what he was running from. What was Hephaistion now trying to run from? His lover's voice pulled him from his reverie.

"Alexander, I got caught up in the moment. In my terror at nearly losing you, at nearly leaving you alone in this world I... Remember Tyre? Your fury after I was nearly taken from you. And when these hill heathen bandits stole Oxhead? Tell me the truth, Alexander, would have wiped the earth clear of them had he not been returned? He is but a horse, yet he is buried deep in heart, your soul, you love him well. Tell me Alexander, hmm? The women and children, over a horse? What price fury, Alexander?"

Remember Tyre. How could he forget. He'd sent Hephaistion and his sappers, twenty in all, on a desperate mission to tunnel out from within the thick walls. It went wrong, spies gave away the men's position. They were captured, tortured aboard a Tyrian ship and in a daring escape jumped into the sea as Alexander's navy assailed the floundering vessel. In the rescue attempt Hephaistion's left leg was horribly crushed between the two ships, leaving the proud man with yet another crippling injury in the quest to fulfill Alexander's dreams. In bitter retaliation for his companion's abuse and his own wound to the throat he'd allowed the army to raze Tyre to the man. Was that any different then Hephaistion's blood lust toward Philotas and the pages? No, it was not and he realized that he'd acted selfishly in his confrontation with Hephaistion. The topic of the general's growing viciousness could have and should have been broached as a separate issue. Laced not with disdain but with love and concern between old, dear friends. Not in condemnation for his devotion to his king and companion.

"Yes, Tyre. Wine, my friend?" he motioned to the flagon. Hephaistion nodded and walked nearer his king. "Yes, I would have killed them all for Oxhead. It's madness, Hephaistion, madness. How far have we run from ourselves?"

Alexander handed him the cup; their fingers brushed together and the tired general smiled weakly before turning away and taking a seat on the wide window sill overlooking the palace courtyard. It was a depressing excuse of an arid garden and Hephaistion felt saddened by it's sandy lifelessness.

"I was hurt that you would begrudge me my fury; your brutality rivals mine at times. I am not the only one here capable of horrific cruelty. Still…I should know and remain in my station. Remain focused on my duties: your lover when you wish it, unburdened by petty jealousies. Your general when duty deems it, your conscience when yours go silent and you risk ruinous behavior, your confidant and target for your anger. Your boot lick if that is the only capacity you find me worthy of serving. My dear old friend, in the turmoil raging in my heart that day, I forgot my place. Alexander forgive my poor judgment. It will never happen again. You have my word before father Zeus himself. Never again will I disobey you."

They sat in silence for a very long time. Neither knowing how to really reach the other. Hephaistion hated these long interludes, they infuriated him. He could bridge the wildest rivers and safely ford them with an army of thousands but at times like now he was locked in a gut wrenching silence. Alexander on one side of the tumultuous waters and him on the other. Time, he knew, would set them right again. He would just have to wait.

Down below he noticed a group entering the courtyard from the far side of the palace grounds. Roxane and her ladies. He was disturbed to see that Bagoas was also amidst the colorfully dressed entourage. He tucked the information away for later use. Bagoas and Roxane together, that was an alliance that he needed to monitor. The queen was indeed a beauty though it stirred nothing at all with in him. Tall and lithe as the finest filly in Egypt. She reminded him of the Arab, and Egyptian horses. Long of neck and leg, smooth and ornery to a fault. A strong hand would be needed to tame that one. Yet if put the whip…he smiled a bit at the thought, then scolded himself for the petty nature of his desire. A queen he would never begrudge Alexander, although if he felt that his lover loved her…Gossip flowed freely about her troublesome demeanor. About how she was every bit the tiger Alexander had hoped for, about how she gave the young king no quarter; making him work for every inch of ground he gained with her. Yes, they were a pair.

If he could have chosen, Hephaistion would have wanted Alexander to marry Statira. For him she was the perfect embodiment of a queen, and the only woman that ever caused him to desire a gentler hand. A fact that he'd never shared with Alexander. Regal and brave, yet well aware of the duty she owed her family. This Roxane, she had no such innate nobility. No real sense of her worth to anyone but herself. She was dull as well, content to simply sit and preen herself with her servants and be drawn along in Alexander's wake. Statira would allow herself to be carried in no-ones wake. She would find a way to change her course and obtain what she desired. Yes, Statira should be queen. Alexander had asked what he wanted, maybe he would ask for the hand of Statira.

The guard changed and shortly after a courier arrived with a scroll. Hephaistion used the interruption to refill his cup and then returned to his window perch. Alexander's voice woke him from his woolgathering.

"They have located Bessus. Three days out."

"Again? Alexander the man's a phantom. Let it go. What can he possibly do to us? No resources, no men, nothing. They have become merely a band of rabble, piss poor hill bandits." How easily, he thought, that they switch to simply talking business.

"You doubt my judgment in pursuing him?"

"I always have once we established that he had nothing left. You know that. He's not a threat any longer. He scampers around these wretched peaks and ravines with a handful of men…by the gods, Alexander, know when to say enough is enough. Know when to move on. The last sighting said that he was sickly, damn near dead, let him die. Even if he gathered another large force they would be no threat to us."

"More and more you sound like one of the growing number of my detractors, Hephaistion. Is there something I should be made aware of?"

"Aware of? Yes! By the infernal gods yes! You should be aware that things are always in flux. Always changing. You and I, the focus of our mission, the attitudes and desires of the men. _Change_, Alexander, is an unstoppable force. You of all men should understand this. You have after all instigated so much of it."

"You spoke of change the night that you ran off to join Xenos. Is he the change that you desire?" Alexander muttered smugly.

Hephaistion growled in aggravation and recalled his hectic preparations to leave for Xenos' timber outpost. Five times he'd turned around and headed back to the palace before his anger and hurt, further fueled by wine, spurred him into the cold night and away from all that he cared for.

"Truthfully, Alexander, I was just sitting here thinking about Statira. We correspond you know? I have always been impressed her fine bearing." He stood and began to pace, then after a moment he sat down in a chair across from his companion and with a groan, stretched out his bad leg and put it up on the edge of Alexander's chair, his foot against the kings strong thigh. "I admire her a great deal. Would you gift me with her hand in marriage? She'd make a fine queen and I too, after all, am Alexander." He sipped his wine and peered over the cup's rim at a stunned Alexander. "You have to admit _that _would be a change."

Alexander burst out laughing, and Hephaistion could not help but follow. He had no more stomach for silly feuds and pointless tears. He would end them all right now, before either of them left the room. If they parted enemies then that, he decided, must be the will of Zeus. If the gods granted them more years together he gladly would accept that. But one way or another all the jealousies and suspicions and deceits were going to cease to be.

"I have a thing or two to tell you Alexander." He began after they'd stopped laughing. "I want them out in the clear, no more hedging and nit picky words to mask my hurt or my confusion. It all ends tonight. If the gods grant us more time in each others spheres so be it, if not then I will remember our lives and cherish the memory of our love."

"Phaistion you do not…"

"We are bleeding, Alexander, have been for a very long time. Don't know when or where or how it started but we _are_ bleeding. It was always a slow steady seeping, the loss of something never quite replenished. Love maybe. Maybe respect. I have thought about this a lot; especially over the last ten days and I know it to be true. I have at times tried to tell you but I never seem to get it all out quite right.

Bagoas, Bagoas was a vicious twist and jerk of the knife that ripped at my own wound rendering it nearly fatal. I bled that much faster. When you took him to your bed…" he paused and tried desperately to hold his emotions at bay so that he could finish. "Alexander that wounded me so deeply that I wrote Aristotal to bid him farewell, threatening to take my life. It tore through the fabric of my trust and ripped apart the very muscle that holds our bond together. Maybe I have never healed from that wicked thrust of cruelty. Maybe, and the older I grow the more I believe this to be true, maybe there are just some words and deeds that injure so grievously that there is no amount of love, divinely wrought or not, that can staunch and replace this flow and loss of blood. Stop the rushing away of love. Maybe we cannot heal such wounds with love alone, they simply defy such a naive cure.

So still, I continue to empty slowly of your love, Alexander, and I feel no great compulsion to damn the stream of it just now. I ache for it to be gone, your love sometimes. Wish for the pain of loosing it, loosing you, to be dulled. So I go to Xenos. Yes, Alexander, I lied to you. And not for the first time I am afraid. I've been to see him more than just a few times, more than just the time I admitted too. Known him for some years now. I feared that you would keep me from him…I couldn't risk that. And your father, since I want it all out now, no more half truths to keep _you_ safe and free of pain, he raped me. Him and his companions. Some of whom I still must deal with daily. Their jibes and hate, yet I can ask for no help with it. It's my burden to bear if I choose to remain at your side.

I portray a brave front and steel myself up to play the good Patroclus to your Achilles…but Alexander, Bagoas is no Brisias, and you are no god. Your great dream…it is a death march and I suppose I am weak in spirit because I find it impossible to look away from your sick relationship with him, and your ego, and your ambition as of late. Taking women I understand. A queen I understand, but…and Xenos.

Xenos frightens me. He threatens to replenish all the love of yours that I feel I have lost and Alexander it terrifies me. Gods I am rambling! He is _all_ that you are not. _He is mine_. I share him only with his music. He is teaching me to play. There are no wives, or concubines no vile eunuchs. No armies and endless quests. No dreams of building new worlds and defying and defeating the very gods at their own games. Damn them all these villainous gods! They take and take and take from us… If I could steal from each and every one their vain conquests and success'; erase them from the fickle memory of man and lessen the grandiose task you burden yourself with; this blind ambition, your desperate need to exceed such Olympian feats, I would gladly do so just to have a heartbeat of time with you and you alone like when we were boys. I would not need the gift of Prometheus' fire if I knew, truly knew, that I still had your love, and your trust! That Alexander, your _love, _warms my heart and soul but the rapacious fire of your indomitable ambition sears me to the quick; turning to bitter ash what little love remains behind. I will, I know be punished by these wrathful gods for my selfishness, for trying to steal one of their brethren from them but…"

"Enough!" Alexander shouted as he jumped to his feet. "Enough! I have heard your words, Hephaistion, and my heart is crushed by them!"

Alexander's voice was a strident whine. He lashed out and sent a statue of Apollo crashing to the ground. Bagoas and the gods and Bessus and his mother and his dreams…Hephaistion was bartering with them asking that he become something he was not. An ordinary man.

"Again I will ask you! What do you want?"

Hephaistion stood painfully and walked to where Alexander stood trembling from fear and hurt. He reached out and cupped his friend's face in his hands. "I want you to get rid of the eunuch, re-establishing our solemn oath to one another. He is an embarrassment to me, my greatest shame has been that I was cast aside for something neither male or female. A shame that you left me no way to fight against. Spurned for the favorite of our most hated enemy with no way to battle for my rightful place.

I want you to heed your momentum and take care in what you wish for. I want this out of love not selfishness. I dread that you might suffer Darius' cruel fate. I want to have some autonomy, some space of my own, time of my own to pursue _my_ interests. Have you forgotten Alexander, I too love to write and read and study the new ideas we find in these strange lands. But I have no time for such frivolous activities and no one to discuss them with outside of letters home to Aristotal. The burden you place upon me is always fivefold that of the others and I do it because I am bound to you and this dream you struggle to make real. But now, Alexander, I am asking for help. _I am tired_. My wounds pain me more than I admit to. Since falling ill last year I have not been as strong as I should be, I sometimes feel as if my time is very short. Aristotal tells me that without proper rest the sickness that nearly stole me from you can come again, twice as strong. I know that you plan for me to lead a column through the great pass, I am honored but I fear my health may not allow it. This training with Nearchus must stop, Alexander…I simply am no longer so young and strong. I have changed, grown older, weaker… too many crippling wounds."

The king pulled free of Hephaistion's grip and walked to the window.

He leaned, against the wall arms outstretched on either side of the opening and stared into the night. The moon, not quite full bathed the courtyard in a yellow glow.

"I will not give up my dreams, Hephaistion. If it is an ordinary man you desire maybe Xenos is indeed your answer, but by the gods I hope not. I will not slow down my pursuit and elimination of Bessus, or my journey east. Despite your advice I feel that he is a threat as long as he lives. Bagoas…" He spat out and returned to where Hephaistion waited. "Bagoas is a sin I have now paid dearly for in more ways than one. Never before have I felt such anguish. Your words have shown me the tragic error I have brought upon us by bedding him, and now he skulks about trying to enamor himself with Roxane. I ask and expect too much of you in _all_ things, and repay your devotion with my absence from our relationship. Everything else aside, Hephaistion, we are _friends _and you have shown me that I have not even honored that much of our relationship; let alone our deeper bond.

Consider Bagoas gone. He will be reassigned. Elevate Milos to an aide and continue teaching him your duties, he will be your second. The boy is a fine horseman and fighter but his mind is too quick to waste on a Bactrian ax. I will find you a new page. The decision is yours of course. Your health; you should have come to me, Hephaistion. I had no idea and in my selfish questing for glory, that you have so successfully railed against, I did not notice your distress. I need you. I need your special genius at pulling all the strands of this army together and making them the strongest rope in the world. You, Hephaistion are the only man that can do this, so I need you to function and rest, function and rest. I will see to it that you have more help.

Hephaistion…I asked what you wanted and I have heard your demands, I will now apologize for my blindness. You say that we are bleeding out in a slow, steady stream, letting our love flow silently away, no more Hephaistion, no more. Roxane is a shrewish wild witch, out done only by my mother in her wickedness, do not fear her hold on me. She has none. My devotion to her ends at begetting a son. My newest obsession is to regain your trust. I will not leave all that we have dreamt of for each other up to the fate of the gods. Just tell me how to begin."

"Much of the change must be in my duties, Alexander. Though it will pain me I do not want to, cannot, be sent out so often. My health...at least until I feel more confident. Please, do not think of me as weak, I…"

"Never, Hephaistion, never. Had I realized you were struggling I would have kept you closer to me."

"Good then that's a start. You are serious about Bagoas then?"

"Yes. He's out of my life."

"No, retain him as your servant."

"Heph…"

"He is our ears and eyes to Roxane and Cassander. My informants tell me of a growing alliance between them."

"You would trust me?"

"You gave your word. If I no longer can trust in that then take my life now."

"So be it. He is a servant only, I will assign him quarters apart from mine."

"And I will tell Xenos that I will not be able…"

Alexander stepped quickly to where Hephaistion stood. "No my beloved you will do no such thing." He smiled and took Hephaistion's hands in his. "I spoke the truth, when I told you I was glad that you found a companion that has not changed. Yes, I may be a jealous bastard but he is as you have stated, yours. Keep him close to your heart. I trust him to keep you safe and well when I am not able to."

"But, Alexander, you have given up Bagoas. You…"

"Bagoas is but a weakness, a sad vice. There is no love, nothing pure about what we do. You and your Celt care for one another. If nothing else consider him my gift to you. My penance. Besides, Statira is out of the question, I am keeping her for myself."

Again they laughed and followed that with a crushing embrace. Alexander grasped Hephaistion's face in his hands and shook his head at the sight before him. Eyes as blues as a spring time sky, a face marred by war yet beautiful beyond words, his Hephaistion. That special light that shined from within always gave his beloved friend a glad smile. Nothing could take Hephaistion's beauty from him, nothing. Alexander flushed at the smell of him. Sweat and a hint of grass, the wild scent of horses and campfire smoke.

"Are you too tired, my love, to stay with me tonight. Tomorrow I ride after Bessus, but for what remains of tonight _I am yours_."

"No, not tired. Need to be with you."

"Come then, come to bed."

It took little time for them to fall into a comfortable rhythm. Knowing fingers caressed old scars, tongues probed pliable mouths, legs twined in and out and round each other. All in a reverent silence, all with a gentleness born of the deepest respect and love for one another. Alexander, stopped and rolled Hephaistion onto his back, and through heaving breaths spoke.

"Share them with me, Phaistion, the Thebans, the two from the Sacred Band. Share them with me." His eyes were wild and full of the very brightness that Hephaistion needed to warm him heart and soul. "Share them with me, breath their spirits into my soul and we all be as one. You and I, Achilles and Patroclus, and the lost Thebans. Please."

Hephaistion needed no further prodding, he rolled Alexander over and drove his tongue into the man's mouth with a vicious thrust that slammed their teeth together and breathed into his mouth. At the same time he pushed into Alexander, driven by love and loneliness. He came almost immediately, Alexander just after. It was all over too quickly for them but they were too exhausted to repeat the act.

Hephaistion rested his head on Alexander's chest so that he could hear his heartbeat, he spoke in a quiet, sleepy satiated voice. "Could you feel them my beloved, could you feel their strength? Their love? With their love tied to ours we can stop the bleeding. We can stop the hurting." He was crying gently, warm tears running across Alexander's chest.

"Yes, my gentle Hephaistion, I did. And we will. Now sleep for me my love, please just sleep."


	16. Chapter 16

Title: What Price Fury

Author: Rothalion

Summary: Hmm. After a dreadful deed Alexander and Hephaistion deal with the reality of Kingship. I guess.

Rating: Lets go with PG-13

Disclaimer: Well, there's a bit of movie verse and a bit of history so…I don't own them regardless. Thanks Mr. Stone and thanks to history sort of as it's not been kind to Hephaistion.

Xenos ducked down and twisted a bit to the left as he stepped through the door into Alexander's chamber. The burly Celt chided himself. Even after being gone from his homeland for eleven years he still found himself hunching up to accommodate the doors of the smaller structures he'd been raised with. These Persian dwellings were huge in comparison to the low slung stone and sod lodge houses of his childhood, the entries afforded him more than enough height and width, but out of habit, still he ducked. Straightening up, he blinked his eyes at the sudden dimness, and waited for instructions. Without looking up from his work Alexander beckoned him in and pointed to a chair. As Xenos sat down he noticed Milos sitting on the rug strewn floor off to the left. Alexander pointed mutely to the boy and then to the wine service. Milos stood with a hasty glance at the Celt and went to fetch them wine.

The big Celt couldn't help but feel for Milos. The boy looked terrified. He was certain that Milos' summons had been as vague as his own. A terse order to go to their King's audience chamber. No reason, no room for refusal. Only that Alexander expects you, that you be there at first guard change and that you be prompt. For Hephaistion's sake Xenos would be sure to be prompt, but for any other man…he'd come when he pleased. Milos, the Celt wondered why the boy felt fear. He was well liked by Alexander, had been promoted to Hephaistion's second by Alexander, why would the boy be so afraid and unsure. Had something occurred that Xenos was not aware of. Was Hephaistion injured, missing again? He had gone on a short recon mission six days ago, nothing too dangerous but then one never knew. Xenos looked up when Alexander coughed, but still the blond kept scribbling on his scroll. It was at times like this that the Celt hated Alexander and wondered by his gods and the Greek's how and why Hephaistion tolerated Alexander's often callous demeanor. The man might be the King but damned his bad habits. It was rude to keep a man waiting, rude to frighten the boy, rude to demand audiences without reason.

Xenos could search his memory and think of countless instances that Hephaistion had told him of describing how Alexander's arrogant disposition had pained him. One in particular always takes the forefront. A time when he and Alexander were dining with dignitaries from Thebes. They were twelve and Philip, still ecstatic over Alexander's taming of Bucephelus, was uncharacteristically touting his son as a wonder among boys his age. The praise, fueled wine had buoyed Alexander's burgeoning confidence in his superior position and he'd flaunted it over the easiest target, Hephaistion. The prince spent the night ignoring his devoted comrade but also demeaning him by sending Hephaistion for wine, and food despite being surrounded by servants. To further push his point home he began asking that his devoted friend wipe his lips when he laughed and spluttered his drink, and used him as the butt for his sarcastic comments about foreigners and lesser class men rising to rank in Macedon's great army. Hephaistion suffered the abuse and played the part of the gracious first companion until Alexander brazenly offered him to a Theban general as entertainment for the remainder of the night, mimicking what he'd just seen Philip do with a favored young page of his own. Hephaistion had quietly spoken out against his friend's offer only to be soundly silenced with a slap and a warning about minding his station. The visiting general and an appalled and frightened Hephaistion departed from the festivities, quickly forgotten by Alexander and Philip both. Hephaistion, out of honor and a enormous sense of pride, had never complained or told Alexander what had occurred that night, but he had confessed his pain and disappointment over the long past the incident to Xenos. The young Hephaistion had also told his father of his sadness and sense of betrayal by both him and Alexander; but Amyntor responded by reminding him of his position. The boy was caught in a confused blur of burgeoning love, a fierce sense of duty and seemingly abandoned by the man, his father, who he still looked to for protection and advice did the only thing he saw fit. He doubled his effort to prove his devotion and love for Alexander, working tirelessly to show the young prince that he was far too important, as a friend and advisor to squalor as a gift for diplomats as Philip so often did with his own personal attendants.

"Linnaeus! Get your sorry ass in here!"

Xenos turned to the door as a frantic page rushed through, bowed to Alexander and snapped to attention. " This memo," Alexander waved it at the boy, "It needs to be in Eummenes' cursed fist before morning. He is camped north of here near the river. Do you know the place?"

"Yes, my King."

"Then fly like the wind lad. I will not tolerate failure in even the youngest of my staff. Mount your self appropriately."

The page spun round and fled the room. Xenos noted the fear in the boy's eyes and the glint of the mischievous in Alexander's.

"So, my good friends you have arrived." He clapped his hands, as he stood and Bagoas entered with food and fresh wine. Milos leapt to his feet and bowed. Xenos remained seated, shaking off the shudder that always seemed to plague him when Bagoas was near by. His failure to stand when acknowledged by the king won him a grunt and chuckle from Alexander. "Aye, that's right. The big brute of a Celt who bows to no man. I have kept you waiting, Xenos, and you are peeved. Well my dark Celt, it could not be helped." He bellowed and sat on the corner of his desk just in front of Xenos. "It seems that your cohort, our short tempered Hephaistion, has been once again feuding with my old secretary Eummenes. What is your opinion of that dear Xenos. Bagoas, serve now please."

"Hephaistion has little respect for Eummenes' abilities Alexander; and little trust, as of late, for the man's motives. General Hephaistion is not a man who wishes to be false in his actions or treatment of those around him. _Your_ Hephaistion simply continues to give Eummenes his due. The old fool gets annoyed when his many failings are put before him to face by a younger more adept man and then he attacks _your_ Hephaistion." He looked sidelong at his king and took a lump of meat from the platter Bagoas presented him.

"I see." Alexander said quietly then paused and pointed at Milos who sat dumbstruck by the big man's words; a piece of meat inches from his slightly open mouth. "You, eat! For the love of the gods Milos why do you insist upon fearing me! Yes, you were taken by," he motioned to Xenos, "_my_ Hephaistion but I love you no less. Eat boy!"

"Why have you summoned us, Alexander?" Xenos asked his annoyance plain, "In my country it is rude to keep a man waiting."

"And in mine the king can do as he chooses. In mine his men refer to him as lord or my king. Yet I belay that requirement for you, dark Celt."

"We are beyond that drivel Alexander. We fuck the same man." Milos' gasp was audible and both man cast the boy a scowl. "I have work to attend to. Work that _your _Hephaistion ordered completed in his absence." He stood to go. "So with your leave…or without if that's the path you choose, I'll be off to my…"

"Sit, you brute of a rude but painfully honest fool." Alexander said with a loud laugh. He liked the Celt, the big man never cowed to him and that was trait he respected. "Damn you man sit and eat. I brought you here to talk about Hephaistion, mine, yours, ours take your pick. Both of you will soon accompany him south to through the great pass. He will be apart from me for a long while. The road will be dangerous." He stood and began to pace. "You," he pointed at Milos, "will be my hands and heal him. You, dark Celt, my heart and love him, and my strength when he has need of that. Do you both understand?"

Xenos took a bite of melon and studied Alexander. Why make them wait and then spout out his demands so quickly. Hephaistion was more than capable of taking care of himself. The man was every bit as good a fighter as Alexander and as shrewd as the vilest court assassin so why this sudden desire to shadow him with what the Celt knew was far more than mere moral support, but an order to be Hephaistion's personal guard as well. He looked to Milos before speaking again.

"Alexander, what is it that concerns you? Eummenes? Hephaistion is more than capable of this mission and more than capable of defending himself against the intrigues of that old fool. What worries you?"

The king sat in a chair near them. "What concerns me, Xenos, is that I still fear his will to live, or rather lack of it. Something is broken in his soul and I fear that he is slowly giving up. Letting his sand run out. In my presence he seems strong and willful but something is not at peace within him."

"What has occurred with Eummenes, Alexander?" Xenos asked waving off Bagoas, with a sneeze after cursing the creatures sickly sweet perfume.

"The fool told Hephaistion that Bagoas was in my bed again! Lies all damned petty lies!" He stood and began to pace. Sill Hephaistion reacted quite badly, striking him and drinking himself dumb for two days. He promised the gods that he'd not return from this mission, that getting me into India would be his final push to find the encircling sea. That after that if he survived, and that he really cared not to, he wanted to go home."

"He means to die!" Milos yelled jumping to his feet. "My master is not that foolish! He lives for you, Alexander, breaths for…he…"

"Is very tired, Milos. A man must live for himself."

"Then keep him here, Alexander, send another!" Xenos, frustrated stood and face Alexander. He knew well what Alexander was speaking of. Ever since their fight, the death of Amyntor and the wedding Hephaistion seemed at times depressed and disconsolate. As though seeking something that he never seemed to grasp entirely and so was disappointed again and again.

"No, Xenos, that would wound his pride. I ask that you keep him focused and strong. I ask that you be the vessel of my love. I will deal with Eummenes. I will make an announcement before you all depart that will resolve any conflict between them. Do you accept my orders?"

He asked studying one and then the other.

Xenos sighed. He knew too well that one man could not keep another alive if he wished to die. "Of course, My lord." He pledged solemnly. "You have my word that I will keep our Hephaistion safe."

"I too Alexander. I will make certain that my gentle master, Hephaistion, is contented and strong."

"Good then. Milos you are dismissed. Have Hephaistion's quarters in order, he arrives mid day tomorrow. Speak naught of this meeting to him. That is a command."

Milos gone, Alexander dismissed Bagoas and any other pages left behind. Xenos sat back down and picked at the fruit remaining on the platter as Alexander straightened up his desk.

"Come, Xenos, we will retire to my private quarters."

Xenos stood and followed Alexander through the palace corridors curious as to what the man had planned for the rest of the night. Neither spoke as they made their way deeper into the palace. The evening had been odd at best and the Celt felt strongly ill at ease with Alexander's invitation to his private chambers. He'd never been there before. He liked to think of the set of rooms as Hephaistion's and Alexander's place, where as his own or Hephaistion's battle tent was theirs. This invitation went against his every instinct. This was an act that he felt betrayed Hephaistion's trust of him. There would be talk and Hephaistion's spies would report it to their master.

Xenos hesitated when Alexander opened the heavy timber door. "Come, Xenos, I only wish to talk of Hephaistion. Come, I would never betray his trust in you."

Aye, Xenos thought, but you have often betrayed him foolish Alexander. Little things mostly but betrayals none the less. He nodded, hunched up a bit and stepped into the large room.

"Please, my trusted friend, sit." Alexander motioned to the dark haired man and set off to get wine and wood to prod the brazier back to life.

"What do you wish to discuss Alexander?" Xenos asked hunched forward warming his huge hands over the now bright flames. "I would think that there is not a secret left between you and Hephaistion."

Alexander handed him a cup and sighed. The big man was a constant reminder of everything he wasn't. He matched Hephaistion's height, yet was broader, thicker; Alexander knew that his lover liked that attribute in the Celt. He'd often let on that, despite their familiararity with each other, Alexander's shorter stature made him feel uncomfortable, as if he was somehow taking advantage. With Xenos they were nearly matched, Xenos being the larger man. Once he had allowed his curiosity to rule his judgement and he snuck into Hephaistion's timber camp and into his tent. The big Celt had Hephaistion wrapped in a secure embrace. Smothered completely in a way Alexander could not manage due to his smaller stature. He sat on the floor and wept silently for a time before he noticed that the Celt had awoken.

The westerner was also a treasure trove of tales, grand stories of places to the far west, places that, as a boy, Hephaistion had wished, with the same intensity, to visit as Alexander's desire to go east. The stories of misty mountains and dragons and the great cold sea, had always filled Hephaistion's fantasies and Xenos had the color pallet to paint the inquisitive Athenian picture after picture. He was also benevolent in a way that Alexander could only wish to be. Xenos, despite being a warrior had maintained an innocence, a purity of heart and soul that at some point Alexander had forsaken for his dream of conquest. This odd trait sang out to Hephaistion and it is that song, Alexander knew, that had opened Hephaistion's troubled heart to the older Xenos.

The king handed Xenos a doe skin parcel and sat down shrinking a bit into his heavy wool tunic. "I had it crafted for him. A symbol I suppose of my acceptance of you in his life. I would appreciate your opinion of the workmanship. I wish only the best for Hephaistion. Though he does thwart my efforts time and again." Xenos studied the man with keen green eyes, and slowly unwrapped the gift.

"Tell me about the two of you." Alexander went on as the Celt studied the item. It was beautifully wrought flute. Xenos put the instrument to his lips and began to play a sad dirge like melody.

Xenos actually flinched at the request, missing a note. He continued to play as he pondered Alexander's question. 'Tell me about the two of you.' What to tell. In all his travels from the highlands of the far west through the bulk of the lands west of Greece and now across the Persian frontier he'd never come across anyone like Hephaistion. The man defied description. He was something god sent, created for him and yet previously claimed by the most powerful man in the world. Still he'd opened his heart to the gentle Celt's solace.

Xenos felt himself blush as he pictured Hephaistion in his mind. He was beautiful in the way a molten ball of glass was beautiful. It captivates you in its rawest unshaped, constantly undulating form. Sets your mind afire with possibilities for it; so you desire then to tame it. Gently, breath by breath, by breath you blow life into it. Lock it in place. Squelch its heat and form it into something you can touch and hold and call your own; despite knowing in your heart that to do so will smother the very essence of its life. Stealing the heat that scorches your soul. In its end form you fear that you may no longer love it, so again you crave it to be molten. Hephaistion was beautiful like that. But too often he'd been blown and cast and heated and cast again to meet the desires of Alexander. Now he was so stretched and thin that the merest sand peppered breeze threatened to shatter him, irrevocably destroying his essence.

The Celt finished his song. "Alexander, we, I, we are close. You know just how, I…"

"What is your true name, Xenos of the far northwest lands?"

'Ah,' Xenos thought, 'so that was it. Not about Hephaistion and me but about _me_.'

"Its a past better left behind." He answered firmly, but with a quietness that unsettled Alexander. "What matter does it make?" He handed the flute back to the king. "It is one of the finest I have ever seen. He will love it, Alexander, of that I am sure."

"You have such great mastery of our languages, and of Persian, and of the language of the Roman tribes. How is that you are so well versed in these things? The flute, your love of music." Alexander pressed. The Celt was an enigma of sorts. Intelligent, and a brute of a fighter, yet he spoke no fewer than five languages and was oddly literate for a wanderer. "Are you a prince, a noble in your land? You have an odd bearing about you, Xenos. It draws men to you, they follow and yet you continue to disdain true command. What is your story, Celt? Have you told Hephaistion?"

"Aye. Hephaistion knows much of my tale. He has a great curiosity for my homeland."

"He loves you."

"Aye." He replied; sadness tinged with pride colored his voice. Xenos studied his feet. The leather creases of his boots jumped out at him and seemed to map the many paths he'd ventured in his life. Paths that had led him inexorably to Hephaistion. But for Hephaistion he'd have set off already in search of new lands. "He does, and I would apologies for that Alexander but, it brings him peace…. to love…me."

"And to love me?"

"Gives him life." The reply begged no question. Life.

Alexander shuddered at the Celts response. Life, what if that love was taken away? Life. "And so my dark haired friend which is the purer love, one that brings peace or one that brings life?"

"You have no need to fear me Alexander, your trust in me to keep him safe is proof of that. So why these questions?"

"I seek the fault that lies in my heart. The fault that you seem to have escaped. I see the way he looks at you. I feel him when he returns from time away with you. I hear him when he dreams and now it is you he now calls out for when his nightmares bring him torment. Where, Xenos, does this innocent benevolence that you exude come from? What secret do you have for holding his soul that I have lost? What is your true name Xenos? Does he know? Did some angered god send you?"

"No angry god, Alexander. No secret. I am simply a lesser man than you. My only greatness is my ability to play a flute." Xenos sighed, drank the rest of his wine in a gulp and stood. He took up the flagon and refilled his cup. " I was afraid if I told him all it would wound him deeply, so I tried to just tell parts. He saw through me though, as is his way." He removed the bracer from his right wrist and offered it to Alexander. "These are the symbols of my clan. My father was chieftain. I would succeed him. I proved myself worthy time and time again in battle and I became feared and revered at a young age. I…was a good leader and I managed to keep a strong group of close companions around me much as you do. It was winter, I was in my fourteenth year. I still had not taken a woman. None called to me, none caused my blood to warm…I…kept it a close secret, it was expected for me, if nothing else, to take a spoil woman,to prove my manhood. This I did with revulsion. My father began to ask what woman of the clan I desired, he wanted grandsons. I put him off. Then…" He paused to refill his cup. Alexander studied the well worn bracer, his thumbs rubbing the smooth relief's of men hunting Elk and fighting each other and waited for the Celt to go on. "Then Kiran, my closest friend for my entire life and I found the true depth of our love. We…we knew we were of the outcast ones. We tried to hide it. Some of my people are tolerant of the love between men, my father was not. Therefore my clan was not. My companions knew and defended my secret for ten years, then I was betrayed by my brother. He was jealous of a gift that my father presented me with. He told him about my relations with Kirin. We were taken and beaten, they butchered Kirin and my loyal friends in front of me. Then I, more dead than alive, was cast into the wild."

Alexander stirred. He could not allow his mind to grasp such a horror. Hephaistion butchered as he watched. "Butchered?"

"It is our way. They were strung up and gutted like stags. I pleaded to be butchered with them, but my father knew that for me to live with the loss of Kirin, my friends and my clan would be a far worse fate than death.

So you see like you Alexander, I was raised to be a prince. The chieftain's fine son. My father kidnapped Romans, and even an occasional lost Greek and they were my tutors. Claudius was my favorite he was butchered alongside Kirin, blamed for allowing such desires to grow with in my heart. He was the first to take me. I loved him too, in my own way. He loved me.

I wandered the land alone, healing, remaining always just on the edge of my clan's holdings. Too weak to live too weak too die, I was a shameful creature. I learned in my third year of banishment that my father had been killed and that my brother had become chieftain during a particularly brutal clash. I hurried homeward; he was not fit to lead. I was too late. My entire clan lay butchered by a northern tribe and my village in ruins. I was totally alone. My love for Kiran had destroyed all that I cared for. I sought peace and absolution in my travels. That was the past, I am here now. I took no pleasure in another until I met Hephaistion. He was so lost and pained, I opened my own wounded soul to him and…my name is Galen of the lost Clan of Loch Sedwich. I've no living blood relations, I am a wanderer and a warrior, a musician. I vow to never leave Hephaistion's side even after death. Then I will reside in the afterlife with Kirin and my new mate and comfort them for eternity."

"You and Hephaistion for eternity? And me?"

"Just as now Alexander your love comes before mine, just as mine comes first for Kirin should another ever claim him."

"And he knows of this, Kirin? Of your Clan? Hephaistion knows."

"Aye, You have lost a father and some comrades Alexander, but I have lost my entire clan. All that defined my being. If I could let you, but for a moment, feel my pain and isolation I would, so that your lust for conquest might by quenched. But you can't feel that type of grief Alexander. Only one thing will allow you to realize such agony but you are afraid to face it. That is what drives Hephaistion from you. He can feel it and does. That is the fault that lies in your heart. It silences the song of love so that you can no longer sing it to him honestly. You've put glory above grief, pride before pain, victory before the plight of your victims. Hephaistion pleads to the gods that they will grant salvation to your soul. That is his battle, and it is one that he is willing to die for.

I've traveled and fought for many kings in many lands Alexander and it is always the same. Glory turns to glut. You have no business taking India by force. Make your way to the sea in peace. Backtrack to a land that is yours and follow the edge of the earth eastward. You stand to loose everything once you cross that river. Hephaistion knows this. Allow yourself to feel the agony of loosing him, King Alexander, only then will you know and be able to admit and present your humility to your gods."

Alexander stood and walked to the bust of Hephaistion that held court near his bed. It was positioned in a way that Alexander could see it when he awoke in the morning and as the last thing before he slept. Lose Hephaistion, the Celt was right, it was an event that he refused to truly face. The last difficult months had taken him close to that sense of loss but not nearly close enough. He ran his thumb across the cool stone cheek and trembled. His breath caught in his chest and he staggered back a step. Cold, cold and still, devoid of life, dead. The Celt was telling him that his ambition was destroying the thing he loved more than his own life. Hephaistion was dying by his hand. Xenos' love for Kiran cost him his clan and Alexander's love for glory was costing him Hephaistion.

"What would you have me do? He returns tomorrow. I intend to name him Chilliarch two days later in a banquet in his honor. He will build my bridges and follow me despite his claims that he will not go farther. What would you have me do?"

"It seems your decision is made. To India then. I will guard him for you in your absence. Just remember Alexander, the difference between 'blind ambition, and being blinded by your ambition'. Good night."

He stood to go and paused at the door, his curiosity overcoming his need for air. It had taken a lot out of his stout heart to tell his tale. "Tell me Alexander, the banquet, with the Thebans when the two of you were twelveish…you gave him to a Theban general." He heard Alexander gasp. That was not a memory he wanted to revisit. Only then did Xenos turn and face the young man who was his current king. "Do you have any idea what that man did to him? How you tested Hephaistion's love, his loyalty?"

He watched Alexander pale as his words cut through years of denial. "You thought you were his first, no? At best you'd like to think that your father's generals were the ones who took his innocence and began the shuttering of his heart. Maybe you wanted to blame his father. Yes Alexander, am I close? No?" The king stood stricken, tears streaming down his cheeks. "It was you that laye dthe very first brick on Hephaistion's wall. You in your very first attempt at acting kingly. You in your very first attempt at imposing your will upon another man. You won that night, you earned your father's approval, showed him that you could be as hard as he was, proved that you were willing to sacrifice friendship, love for your duty despite the cost and you did so all at Hephaistion's expense. Do you recall that for the next long weeks you catered to the Ox Head almost continuously, ignoring Hephaistion unless it was to ask him for something. Yet he stayed at your side Alexander. He was true to you and to his love of your soul. Forget India, go round. Goodnight, My Lord."

He stepped out of the door and noted that he'd neither ducked or turned, but stood tall, his full height. As he made his way down the dim corridor he could hear Alexander calling for his return. No guards came though and he continued on his path.


	17. Chapter 17

Title: What Price Fury

Author: Rothalion

This is an attempt to get some dialogue going between Perdiccas and Hephaistion and Alexander and Hephaistion. I have limited internet so I will post as I can. I need to find these guys again, voices and such so try and tolerate the mundane aspect of this chapter. Its just guys hanging out.

Rating: M for implied M/M and a lot of double entendre(sp)

Warnings: I have to do this quickly I might loose internet so no real editing has taken place. Just trying to hear them again.

Disclaimer: I think this thing has grown beyond truly needing one.

Copyright: T. Glynn/Rothalion 11/4/07

What Price Fury 17

As he reached his tent's entry Hephaistion stumbled forward a bit from Perdiccas' firm slap to his shoulder. He laughed loudly pointing, with a newly shortened blood and grime stained bandaged index finger, at the boisterous man. "Hold your tongue you pig's ass, I've got more ways of pleasing someone than this now, quite sadly, stubbier finger. Jealousy doesn't become you Perdiccas. Meet me at the bath tent and I can remind you of the finer aspects of my generous Athenian merits. I could give a lesson…"

"Silence!" The other general stopped laughing and studied Hephaistion with mock seriousness noting the crystal blue of Hephaistion's eyes in the pale evening moonlight. "Hephaistion, I need no reminder and have no interest in a lesson concerning your proclivities with men. Well unless I can just say watch you…That might be …well…. enlightening. I was simply stating a fact, that I hope you are as skilled with your left hand as your right. That bit of missing finger tip…well one never knows the true _depth_ of a man's true love." With that the two again burst out laughing and Hephaistion pulled Perdiccas into a firm embrace. Of all the companions Perdiccas had, along with Ptolomy, never attacked Alexander and Hephaistion for their bond.

"Perdiccas you are truly lucky that I love you like a brother or I'd hog tie you and see just how far this shortened finger can indeed reach. Then we'd see just how much you truly disdain my proclivities. Now be gone and let me get some sleep. Aside from half a finger I've lost too much of that as well. Good work out there, we will fair well in the great pass."

"Good night General Hephaistion." Perdiccas offered, then, "As if Alexander's gonna let you sleep. You better lop another finger or two off and scream like a virgin Hephaistion, we all know there's no rest for the king's pet when he's been gone from camp for more than a day."

"Pig's ass!" Hephaistion spat laughing again and pushed through the flap of his tent. "Alexander!"

"Pig's ass? Never thought of Perdiccas as a pig's ass. A horse's ass maybe but pig's …a bit well cheap, no?"

Hephaistion dropped his kit down in a corner and shuffled to his wine service. Alexander be damned, he was the pig's ass. Why did the man insist on suffocating him?

"I see you've helped your self."

"Yes. Share and share alike no? Injured a finger?"

"Hmm Hmm." Hephaistion muttered and poured himself a large cup of unmixed wine. He shrugged wincing when his neck cracked and popped audibly in a way that seemed to betray his age though in actual years he seemed still young. It reminded him of his father, the cracking. The elder Amyntor would twist his head and bend his neck causing it to crack and pop. A young Hephaistion would giggle and ask the old soldier to do it again and again. He chuckled at the pleasant memory, him seated on his father's lap listening to the man's bones crack, but mostly just loving being held in the general's strong arms.

Drink poured he sighed and turned to Alexander. The king pushed a chair toward him and Hephaistion plopped down into it. He extended his legs toward his friend and grinned. "Well since you're here, off…take the damned soggy things off." He lifted his right leg and tipped his head a bit to the right awaiting his king's response. "Well come now, what's this? Gone for what seems a lifetime…"

"Twenty days at best, Hephaistion." Alexander said scowling. "That does not constitute a life time."

"A lifetime…I return expecting my loyal and caring page and instead…I get a petulant King. Well, my leg's getting tired, tend to my many needs oh great king."

Alexander chuckled scooted his chair forward, placed Hephaistion's foot on his knee and began unlacing the weary man's boot.

"So you've been wounded again? Lost a bit of a finger?"

"Yes. Oh and what a horrific battle it was Alexander. Me against an army of… gods save me it is almost too horrible to recall." He tipped his head back and sighed.

The king paused in his unlacing and looked at his comrades upturned chin. He studied the small scar not quite hidden beneath Hephaistion's stubble. A scar ages old a relic from their youth. The last thing he'd wanted when he sent Hephaistion and Perdiccas out to scout a trail northeast was for the party to come under a horrible attack. "Horrible?" He asked, pushing the memory of Hephaistion's chin being head butted by Attalus' crony's head out of his mind. "How many did you loose?" He pulled the soggy boot from Hephaistion's foot discarded it, hefted the other foot onto his knee and began to unlace it.

"How much, would be more accurate I think." He looked down at Alexander took a swig of his wine and groaned. "About halfway to my knuckle. Enough to foul up my career as a court flautist. Ah that's better now some of your fine liniment and a nice rub would make them feel like a newborn baby's feet. Feet never tormented with the toil of a trudging up and down soggy scree slopes."

Alexander scowled. He hated when Hephaistion was flippant. He never knew quite how to deal with it. "My ass!"

" Oh… impatient are we? First a foot rub and bath then your ass. Alexander you of all men know that there is a certain sequence to things. Have some self restraint. Its only been twenty days, no?"

"The finger!"

"Oh that." Hephaistion held up his right hand and studied the bandage. "The fight was brutal." He guzzled his remaining wine and held the cup out to the king. "Do you mind? I am wounded."

Alexander snatched Hephaistion's cup and stomped across the tent to the wine service. "A violent battle. You lost half a finger and no men!" Wine cups refilled he crossed back to Hephaistion shoved the cup toward the smirking man and glared down at him.

"Sit and I will tell you a Homeric story of bravery and stoic determination that will rival Thermopylae. We were encamped near a small but quick flowing creek, we had not encountered any, well, natives for days. Maybe we let our guard down a bit but I don't think so. Some time just before sunset Nicor, he's a stout lad, son of Timon, grandson of…"

"Just get on with it Hephaistion. Why do you test me so?"

"Grandson of Pyro, would you hurry Homer Alexander? Well Nicor he brings into camp some absolutely horrid prisoners. We tortured them and finally they gave up and said that they were Parsnips. A rare breed of fighter sworn to die before bringing disgrace to their chieftain or their lover. They were much like the Sacred Band. Here, Alexander so far from home, there were men like the Band. Sworn to one another in all things."

Alexander sat up straight completely intrigued by Hephaistion's story. "Fighters sworn to one another, like the band? You are sure?"

Already he'd begun planning ways to get them to join his great expedition. To bring them into his fold.

"Yes. More wine first please." Alexander took Hephaistion's cup and hurried to fill it. Men as bonded as the Sacred band, he had to hear it all. "Thank you, anyway, they refused to be separated. I felt for them yet they were after all enemies and in the night they proved their worth by beguiling a young guard, Arion, son of Hector, grandson of Rastus who was ironically enough the nephew of…."

"Gods be damned Phaistion get on with it!"

"Nephew of Panayiotis! Would you have harried Homer so? Anyway the Parsnips escaped and tried to rout our camp. In the ensuing battle as I held one of their greatest fighters down on my cutting board trying to slice his struggling body to bits in time for supper; you see the water was already at a roiling boil and my hard won rabbit already tossed in, so I was in a hurry to add my vegetables. Food's a bit scarce up high on those scrubby hills so I didn't want to ruin my rabbit…also I didn't want to waste Nicor's wonderful vegetable discovery. It's a fine root this Parsnip but it takes a while to cook the damned stubborn tuber. I suppose I drifted in my concentration and flit…off went the tip, well actually about half of my pointer finger. You always said a sharp knife is a friend but in this case…"

Alexander stared at Hephaistion incredulously. The man had lopped off half a finger chopping up some new native tuber and had played it off as a battle wound for what had passed as two stout cups of wine each. Parsnips, parsnips…The man was mad!

"You cut off half a finger chopping a vegetable!"

"I am afraid so."

"And you are the man I will trust to lead an army through the great pass they call Khyber? A man who cannot properly chop his tubers! Parsnips, the Sacred band? Perdiccas and you joking about short fingers…I….I…."

"Alexander, I have missed you. Truly missed you. Maybe its Perdiccas' doing; constantly nattering in my ear about how grand we are, you and I, together…who can say. So either recall Milos or get busy and set me a bath. By the gods for the fist time in….in….ages I am of light heart and desire nothing more than your company, _your_ company. Alexander I look to the pass expedition with great excitement. I won't fail you."

"And if you should encounter Parsnips, General Hephaistion?"

"I will leave the dirty little bastards to Xenos. You have my solemn oath."

Later that night ensconced in Hephaistion's tent the two men huddled over a damped but warm fire reading Xenophon. Hephaistion reveled in a childish way over Alexander's attention, but despite his guilt he allowed himself the luxury. It had been a night spent sharing tactful touches, and knowing glances. Little real contact had occurred. All had been wrought in a tentative painfully slow dance. Alexander finally broke the subtle stand off.

"Excuse me have to piss." the king mumbled then stood and made his way to Hephaistion's chamber pot.

Hephaistion shivered at the loss of Alexander's warmth and pulled the heavy woolen blanket they'd been sharing tighter around his shoulders. He listened to the hiss of Alexander pissing and felt comforted by the sound. So many simple things that passed between them gave him such a sense of comfort. Xenos pissed and Hephaistion felt awkward, like a voyeur. Alexander pissed and it was just Alexander pissing. Xenos be damned. He'd not allow the Celt to taint this night, a night that he planned on spending with Alexander. Pissing aside he loved them both. Love aside he hated them both for their hold on his heart. All propriety tossed aside he'd often pondered bedding them both together. He flushed at the thought and smiled at the tingle that coursed down his spine. Oh what a treat that could be, would be, the three of them a tangled…

"Pot's damn near full better call a boy."

"Huh? Yes. A boy. To empty the pot. Gods how I hated that duty Alexander! Your father, King though he may be…he has the rankest smelling piss in the kingdom. His piss alone sprayed upon the banks of the Hellespont would keep the Persians at bay. Not a drop, not a single drop of Greek blood would have to be shed." He stood and shuffled to the tent's back entrance. Alexander heard him issue orders then settled down again close to the hearth.

"That bad, I had no idea."

"Your not much better." Hephaistion said embracing his king from behind. "Foul piss and a less than palatable demeanor the both of you share."

"Come now Hephaistion, play fair! Not palatable? Me?"

"As palatable as Nearchus' squid stew. That said I'll be damned but the gods have gifted you with a mere two arms Alexander. I feel I require nothing less than four to suit my pleasure. Do you mind if I call Xenos to join us? He's far better well equipped than the eunuch and well he's coming around to our more or less open ways. A bit of a dream of mine. To have you both. Alexander?"

"Both?"

"Tell me you do not wonder about him Alexander."

"So if I had, or did…"

"Or do?"

Alexander squeezed his eyes shut. Dionysus be damned, the wine be damned, Xenos be…

"Hephaistion you try me."

"Pyros fetch Xenos."

"Phaistion…"

"Fear not." and Hephaistion nipped at Alexander's neck. "Wine and separation, and lust…a need to bring us together."

"Us?"

"Us." and he flipped Alexander around, sprawled out on top of him and drove his tongue into the stunned man's mouth. The king wrapped his arms around the writhing man and wondered just what had ignited such out of character behavior.

The two sparred for a time, teasing and taunting one another, pushing their mating to more intense and collision like heights.

"Heph…" Xenos stammered, stunned buy the scene before him. The sentry had shoved him forward toward the tent then motioned that he should enter. "Hephaistion?"

"Xenos." Hephaistion said his voice hoarse, his arousal complete. "Please," he held out a hand, "please join us. I need you. Need you both."

The big Celt looked at the two men sprawled before him. One his king and one the most important man in his life. To share them, to give Hephaistion that gift…could he do it? Could set morals and stigmas aside and give Hephaistion this gift? He sighed and began to shrug out of his heavy cloak. That discarded he slipped out of his chiton and stepped warily toward the fur lined mat where Hephaistion and Alexander were waiting.

Hephaistion had seen the big man naked before and settled back on the copious fur to watch Alexander take in the northerner's coarse beauty. He'd dreamt of this encounter, waking sodden in sweat and spent seed. As he'd expected Alexander was consumed by the warriors handsomeness. With a final look at Hephaistion Xenos dropped to his knees and began to run his huge hands over Alexander's body. In turn Hephaistion sat up an nestled himself against Alexander's back. Xenos read the plea in Hephaistion's eyes and crawled around so that he now had the general squeezed between himself and the king. With one final look into Alexander's eyes Hephaistion gave himself up to the two men who he loved unconditionally. Out side the tent Milos squatted cursing his weakness and blinking away tears of regret.


End file.
